


Amity

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Hope and Salvation [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles's POV, Death of children (OCs), Happy Ending, M/M, Mention of child abuse and neglect, POV First Person, Slash, There will be M, There will be romance, There will be violence, erik's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One woman's actions changed history in ways expected and unexpected. Now it's time to find out what this new version of the world looks like. </p><p>What joins them is more than just comradeship, or friendship, or even love...it's destiny. In a world so different yet so similar from the one that once was...how will their story go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Charles, or Erik or anyone or anything from X-Men: First Class, or any of the other movies. I just own the idea that gave birth to this fic and the writing in it. Keep that in mind. 
> 
> In this fic all chapters will be from either Charles's or Erik's POV, hope I'll do justice to them. (Except for the last one, it's in 3rd person POV)

Amity

(Part 2 of the "Hope & Salvation" Series)

_By: Lalaith Quetzalli_

_One woman's actions changed history in ways expected and unexpected. Now it's time to find out what this new version of the world looks like._

**Chapter 1. Trust (Charles)**

I groan and gasp, taking several seconds to get back my breath. My whole body hurts already and the battle hasn't even begun yet. Also, I know it's only thanks to Erik that I'm even still in one piece after the blackbird went spinning out of control and I turned out to be out of my seats, with no security whatsoever…yes, if it weren't for Erik I would probably already be dead…certainly not the best thought I've had today.

*Thank you…* I whisper inside his mind, still working on my breathing.

I get a sense of dismissal from him, even with no words, though I know he accepts my thanks, he also knows we're in a precarious situation and there's no time to lose.

I manage to get on my feet, a quick sight and mind scan revealing to me that everyone seems to be mostly alright, if considerably dizzy; only, one mind seems to be everywhere at once, with thoughts of the crash-land we just went through, fights and…something else that's just out of my awareness, pushing together in disarray. I have no trouble making out whose mind it is, even if I do not know why she's like that.

"Moira? Moira are you alright?"

I watch her blink a few times before her eyes snap open wide abruptly, apparently only then realizing that I'm right in front of her. For a moment I get the image of…is that myself? Why do I look like hell? She's never seen me like that has she? Well, I don't remember ever being like that so really…

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright." Her reassurances interrupt my line of thought.

I'm still half lost in the confusion of that image that seems to have disappeared from her mind now, therefore not being of much help when she finally undoes the straps of her seat and manages to, somewhat awkwardly, half twist as she's falling so she manages to land in a half crouch in front of me…and I really should have done the gentlemanly thing and helped her get down…though she seems quite proud of her achievement, as if she'd been preparing for it beforehand…but there's no way that can be true, can it?

I shake my head slightly, turning away from her before I begin getting as paranoid as Erik, finally turning to address my team (and I still cannot believe they truly look up to me as a leader, especially Erik…I still look up to him in so many ways).

"I read the teleporter's mind." I inform everyone, getting to business. "Shaw's storing all the power of the sub. He's turning himself into some kind of nuclear bomb."

"We've got no time." Moira points out, her expression looking somewhat absent. "The radar is going out of control."

"This is what we're going to do." I state, taking complete control of the situation. "Moira, get the radio to work, tell them to take both fleets and leave immediately."

"I'm going in." Erik doesn't wait to be given a task, but I knew that already.

"Beast, Havok, back him up." I knew it was coming. "Erik, I can guide you through once you're in but I need you to shut down whatever it is that's blocking me." I sigh before adding. "Then we just have to get to Shaw and hope that we can stop him…"

_Had he always been this insecure of his powers…I cannot believe it…the Professor never…_

The thoughts hit my mind rather abruptly, like someone's projecting without meaning to. I turn to look at Moira, knowing it is her voice I'm hearing, though I cannot understand how she's talking as if she's known me longer than a few months…the accompanying images are especially confusing: a man in his forties, bald and sitting in a wheelchair, holding a hand at his temple in a gesture I'm intimately familiar with…

"Good luck." I barely manage to call in Erik's direction as he's about to leave.

I want to say something to Moira, but Raven's sudden move to follow the other stops me.

"Raven stop." I call to her.

"I'm going to help." Raven spits in an almost petulant tone.

An image of myself saying something to Raven, in the same scenario we're in right now stops me for a second. I cannot hear the words, but I know they're wrong, or at least, not enough.

_She only wants to feel needed…appreciated._

It's Moira's voice again, though a part of me tells me not even she realizes she's done it this time. Still, I take the advice under consideration when I speak to my sister.

"We don't have time for this." I state, trying to be strict, yet understanding at the same time. "I need you here Raven. If I'm going to do this, I'll have to be fully focused in what's happening inside that sub, and not my own surroundings. I need to know that if anything happens here, if anything comes through that entrance, it'll be taken care of."

I get a vague sense of wonder, followed by approval from Moira's mind, which immediately makes me turn to look at her again, much more intently than before. Her eyes meet mine and I know she realizes I've read something in her mind, something she did not want me to… really, if we weren't in the situation we are…

*Can I trust you Moira?* I speak into her mind with no warning.

She seems somewhat startled, though calms down almost instantly, she's obviously noticed how I do not want to call more attention to us than necessary, she knows I'm onto her now.

*I swear to you…* She's obviously making a great effort to appear as honest as she can, though now I have my doubts.

*You've been lying to us all this time.* I accuse, almost without meaning to.

It's just…I trusted her! Ever since that first night, in the bar near Oxford University, I've given her my whole, unreserved trust. And to know she's been lying to me all along. For a moment I cannot help but fear that Erik might be right, and the possibility only hurts me further. I want to believe in Moira, but I do not know if I can anymore; not when I know she has lied, especially because I do not know what she has lied about exactly.

*If there's something I've never lied about is that I'm on your side. And this is not about humans or mutants or whatever, I'm on your side Charles…I promise.*

She's being honest, I know that much, though she's also still holding back.

*You're still hiding things from me, behind that mental shield of yours.* I point out, still surprised that I really hadn't noticed the shield was there before now.

*Yes.* She admits without hesitation. *And I swear I will tell you everything once this is over, but you really do not need the distraction now. Please, Erik needs you, he needs you to be there for him a 100%, and you cannot do that if you're focusing on me.*

*We will be having a serious talk once this is all over.* It's only the reminder of the hard situation Erik is about to face that even makes me stop pushing her.

*Yes.* She concedes obediently.

*Get the radio.* I remind her authoritatively.

I get more flashes, of the mansion, of other mutants, young individuals I've never seen before, the same man in the wheelchair, another wearing a helmet and a cape. It's obvious Moira is trying very hard to regain control of her mind, of her shields, and failing spectacularly.

"Hello!" I hear her scream into the radio, her mind still spinning, not focused at all.

Whatever it is she's trying to hide, the fact that she cannot is truly affecting her, I really did not want to put her in such a state.

"Moira, calm down." I tell her, influencing her just enough for her mind to actually stop spinning if just for a few seconds. "Focus."

"Yes, sorry." She takes a deep breath and nods, before finally turning back to the radio and beginning to speak more calmly. "Fleet Commander, this is Delta, Seven, Alpha, Zero. We believe Shaw is trying to detonate some kind of bomb. Pull back from the beach…I repeat, there is a threat of bomb, pull back!"

One minute I'm directing Erik, who's just turned off the nuclear reactor, on the direction he needs to take to find Shaw, and arguing with him that he's got to be there because there just isn't anywhere else he can be! When suddenly he's gone…

"Erik? Erik?" My anxiety mounts every second as I keep calling to him, useless as I know it is, I just cannot help it. "He's gone."

"What?" I half hear Moira call.

"He's gone into the void." I'm not even sure why I choose to answer, maybe to keep myself from going crazy over his absence. "I can't communicate with him there."

Raven is on the other side of the wreckage, keeping an eye on the battle between the rest of our team and Shaw's followers; and right as I'm beginning to consider some quite crazy ideas, like going after Erik myself, I get another flash of image from Moira's mind: this time myself, yelling something I cannot hear, all the while hitting the hulk of the broken plane.

"You know something of what's going on." It's not a question.

"I do." She admits after a second or two.

"Where is Erik?" I demand.

"I do not know…" Her quiet admittance does not help me any.

*Moira!* I scream.

It surprises even me when I notice I'm screaming inside her mind. And yet she just takes it, just the slightest flinch showing the pain my less-than-gentle invasion of her mind has caused. I briefly consider pushing through her shields to see what she's hiding, if it has anything to do with Erik and his absence then it is a good reason…but is it? Is there any good reason to invade someone else's mind like that, to pretty much rape them psychically? For a few seconds I'm afraid of my own power, because I know I'm capable of it, I could shatter her shields, get into every corner of her mind I want and she wouldn't be able to stop me, no matter how much she cried and screamed…but I do not want that. I do not want to be a monster…not even for Erik…and if I can even begin to understand what that distinction means I really cannot deal with it right now…

*I cannot tell you how I know what I know, the explanation is too complicated and we don't have the time.* I hear her project hesitantly. *I can tell you Erik's with Shaw, which you already know, that'll you be hearing him again soon. Even what little I know, there's a lot I do not understand, I never did. I'm afraid there's very little I can do at this point.*

*You talk as if you've done something before…* I'm not sure if I'm trying to accuse her of something, or just asking a question.

*I've tried…* She admits in what seems like a half-defeated tone.

Our rather intense conversation is interrupted when I feel my torn connection with Erik reassert itself. All along I had kept trying to form it, being unsuccessful, until now…one moment it was like banging against an invisible wall, knowing Erik was on the other side, yet not being able to actually see him. And suddenly I can see him, though I still have problems actually reaching his mind, it's as if he's so very far away…

"He's back!" I'm speaking out-loud without fully realizing it. "Erik, whatever you're doing, keep doing it. It's starting to work."

I get glimpses, of him trying to fight Shaw, his absolute fury at the man, and then his sarcasm at my own words, followed by a flash of pain, right as the connection becomes clearer.

"It's working!" I tell him, even as I feel bad for the pain he's obviously in. "I'm starting to see him but I can't yet touch his mind."

He obviously dismisses my worries about him, and before I can try and say anything else, Moira's words, this time out loud, call most of my attention (all but the corner of mind that is still as tightly bound to Erik as I possibly can be without reaching truly to the center of his mind, of his inner self).

"It's because of the helmet he's wearing." She informs me quietly.

I'm standing in front of her without even noticing I have moved, and she seems as surprised by my speed as I am; still, I say not a word silently demanding any and all information she might have that may be of help, this time even more seriously considering diving into her mind if she does not give it…thankfully, she does.

"He wears a helmet, and that's what's blocking you." She clarifies in a low voice. "I do not know why, or how."

"And you cannot, or will not, explain how you know that either." I almost hiss.

"Not right now." She nods. "Once this is all over, I'll tell you, show you even, all you want."

I don't like it, I really don't, but I know now is not the time. There's too much at stake here to keep myself distracted with something that might, or might not be important: things like the children, the very real risk of Nuclear war…Erik's life…

"Charles." She calls to me.

I do not like letting anything distract me, and somehow she seems to know this, for she's not trying to project into my mind again, instead speaking out-loud; and while I still do not want to listen to her in that moment, something tells me it's important that I do.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I just want you to consider something." She goes on. "We both know Erik's going to kill Shaw…"

"Maybe, maybe not." I interrupt. "He has it in him to be the better man."

"I don't really like sounding like him, but he already is." Her correction surprises me. "Or he will be, once he realizes that this is all about more than revenge. Once he begins acting more for the future than for the past, for protecting rather than revenge."

Why does she suddenly sound like she knows Erik better than I do? I know that she's right, of course I do, I just don't understand how she can see it as well, when no one but the two of us seems to be able to, not even Erik himself.

"Charles, just think about it, you've seen what Shaw's capable of, I know you have!" She insists, with a passion that surprises me in its intensity. "Do you really want that kind of man…no, not man, that kind of monster anywhere around Erik, around your children?"

Those words make me react, in a way I cannot begin to believe she meant them. The dream of a school is still so recent, so young, so fragile…and yet for one instant, instead of just a school, in my mind's eye I see a family: with children running around the grounds, the older helping the younger ones; Erik and I, side by side, acting as mentors and leaders…but the part that hits me the most is: as parents…

Shaw's words, which I had only been able to get in pieces and with no sense are suddenly clearer, as they begin to permeate more into Erik's mind, something I know instinctively is no good…

" _I don't want to hurt you, Erik. I never did." That monster's words are like poison, the most awful poison. "I wanna help you. This our time. Our age. We are the future of the human race. You and me, son. This world could be ours."_

*No, no, no, no…don't listen to him Erik, don't listen to him…* I whisper directly into his mind, not sure if he's even listening, not sure if he can hear anything but that madman's lies and delusions right now.

" _Everything you did, made me stronger." I hear Erik's voice, low, half-broken. "Made me the weapon I am today. It's the truth. I've known it all along. You are my creator…"_

I want to cry, I want to scream, to wail at the world for the unfairness of it all, yet I know it will be useless, it won't change a thing…my friend…my dearest friend, is falling, drowning in a bottomless pit of self-loath and despair, and I have no idea how to save him…if I could throw myself in and bring him out, like I did by the coast of Miami, I would do it, without a second thought, no matter what the cost to myself. There's nothing I will ever not do for him, for Erik…I…I love him…Oh God…I love him… I love Erik Lehnsherr…

" _Now Charles!"_

Erik's words, spoken out-loud and into our connection at the same time are just enough to pull me out of my half-looping thoughts. Without stopping to think twice about it, or even once, (pretty much like that night in Florida) I just dive…I pull myself into Shaw's mind, reaching his motor receptors and freezing them, freezing him instantly…it's not easy, Shaw is so powerful, and has previous experience with telepaths. However, his recent constant use of that helmet has made him complacent, I manage to slip through his defenses and hold him in place before he can find a way to stop me.

I let out a sound even I cannot give a proper name to, at the effort it's taking to keep Shaw in place. He just keeps fighting back, reminding me time and time again what Erik is going to do. And I know, I know that Erik is going to kill Shaw, and I know what it is going to cost me… yet that only makes me hold onto Shaw harder. Because I know if I hesitate, even just for a fragment of a second, that monster will get free, and Erik will pay the price of my lack of resolve, and that is something I cannot allow. Especially not now…even if it means I must become a murder, and experience the death of my own victim, all at the same time.

I notice in the corner of my consciousness that Moira has finally given up on the radio, it actually surprises me how long she kept trying even when there was no answer. She looks like she wants to say something, yet is forcing herself to stay quiet; it's something I'm thankful for, if there is something I cannot risk right now are distractions…

"Oh God…" I barely notice, through my mental weariness, that I'm speaking out-loud yet again. "I can only hold this man for so long…"

Suddenly, images, like a half-suppressed memory, invade my thoughts:

" _Erik please, be the better man…Erik there will be no turning back! No…." It's my voice I hear, moaning, practically crying, and I do not know why._

" _Charles…" I…she…Moira…it's her memory, she's calling, to the other me, the one in the memory, she wants to help, but does not know how…_

" _Don't do this Erik!" The other Charles yells to the empty air before him, hitting the side of the plane in a mix of fury and helplessness, and then he's begging, like I've never begged in my life. "No…please Erik, no…please Erik…"_

_What follows is the most blood-curling, heart-stopping soul-tearing scream ever heard. There's just so much despair, like the world is ending somehow…and maybe, in a way, it is. And there's nothing that can be done, nothing but watch my other self, falling into pieces while I/she/Moira looks on, helpless to do anything…_

I blink, only a second has passed. I do not know how, or when, or why, but I know the memory to be real…somehow, Moira has been through all of this before, and that's how things went the first time around. I don't know what to say, what to do, how to change what she so obviously has tried and failed to before…then the words fall off my lips, and my mind before I can even notice them.

"Erik please, you are the better man…"

Those words, so similar yet so different from the ones in that awful memory…I agree with them whole-heartedly. Erik is the better man, he just hasn't realized it yet.

*Charles…?* I hear his confused whisper in my mind.

It is obvious he wasn't expecting me to say that, he's still holding Shaw's helmet in between both hands, looking at it as if contemplating what he should do…yet he's not putting it on, regardless of what that memory if Moira's might have shown, he's not putting the helmet on (for while I cannot know for sure, I can imagine the helmet to be at least in part responsible for my reaction in that time-which-wasn't), and I have never been more thankful for anything in my life…

"Erik…" I whisper under my breath and in my mind at the same time. "Please Erik trust me… please, do not cut me out…"

*You do not want me to kill Shaw.* I hear him say slowly, purposefully. *If you put your mind to it, you can make me leave him alive…*

"I could, but I won't." I whisper back, still both aloud and mentally. "It's like I told you all those weeks ago back in the CIA compound, I could stop you, but I won't. I know this is what you want and…while I may not like it, I know Shaw deserves to pay for all that he has done. But why must it be you?"

*Why…?!* The question seems to surprise him. *I deserve to avenge my mother's murder, and all the hurt that damned bastard has put me through, me, and so many others!*

"I know, my friend, I have felt your pain…" I admit quietly. "But must you destroy yourself to destroy him? Is that not too high a price to pay?" I shake my head, even though I know he cannot see me. "I told you before that killing Shaw would not bring you peace, but it's more than that. I'm afraid it might destroy you…"

*I'm no fragile child!*

"I know you are not. I have the utmost respect for you, your power, everything you've endured in your life. But hasn't it been enough already? It is one thing to kill Shaw to protect, but for revenge? That will only leave an empty void inside of you…"

*There is already a void inside me…*

"One that I hope I…we may have begun to fill. All I've ever wanted, from the first time my mind touched yours, was for you to be happy Erik. If I thought this, killing him, would make you happy, I wouldn't be saying a word…no matter what. But I know not only will it not make you happy, it might end up pushing you over the edge you're balancing on now…" I don't know what possesses me to say what comes next, I just feel like if I don't say the words, I may not get another chance later. "I don't want to lose you Erik…"

Seconds pass, though it seems like forever. Erik has lowered the helmet, holding it loosely in one hand, while he keeps the other raised, a silver coin floating between his fingers again and again. I've seen that coin before, in his memories; it's the same one Shaw/Schmidt tried to push him to move, only to murder his mother when he failed. And apparently Erik believes it to be poetic justice that the very same coin be used to murder Shaw.

For an instant I'm almost sure that I've lost, that Erik will just ignore everything that I've said and drive that coin through Shaw's head, like I can sense he's wanted to do for the longest time. I hate the very idea of it, but I do not try to influence his mind, not even in the slightest, instead bracing myself for the pain I know is coming. Then…

_Please, do not turn into Shaw…_  It's Moira's voice, in Erik's memories.  _…if you end up turning into Shaw then…he wins._

*Charles…* Erik's voice in my head is low, hesitant. *Is there any way for you to incapacitate Shaw, make sure he cannot fight back?*

For a moment I'm floored, a part of me wants to cry, still completely shocked that this is really happening. But I know how important it all is, I cannot break down now. So I focus on the task at hand, and how to achieve it.

*I think so, yes.* I answer. *I can seal off his own powers, so he cannot fight back, then it's only a matter of knocking him out and turning him over to the authorities.*

*Very well, we will do this your way.* Erik agrees, though with not without effort.

I turn my focus to the center of Shaw's power, creating walls to separate it from the rest of him. What I do not expect is for all the power he's already absorbed to make it so hard for the walls to stay in place and, eventually, I'm incapable of keeping him frozen while at the same time working on sealing off his ability. He lashes back, even if just mentally, the pain is still so great I barely manage to swallow my scream physically, psychically it's loud enough I cannot stop Erik from hearing it.

*Charles!* Erik screams, on edge.

I'm so lost in the psychic pain I do not realize Shaw is beginning to recover his mobility until he's already spoken.

" _Stupid telepath…" I can only barely hear Shaw through Erik's mind. "To actually think he could take my power from me, what makes me a god! I'll destroy him. Mark my words Erik, I will destroy your little telepath friend, as well as all the other insects out there who have dared defy me, then I will come back to destroy you."_

For a moment it seems to me like Erik might be completely in shock, until Shaw's words register fully in his mind then…it's so strange, I'm hearing Erik call my name, at the same time I can almost physically feel him pull me out of Shaw's mind and into his, a second later the silver coin is zipping through the air, and then through Shaw himself before he can gather enough power to stop it. It leaves enough of a hole in his heart that it no longer beats, and the blood is soon enough pooling around his corpse.

It all happens in a second, less than that even. The result is still the same: Shaw is dead; but the manner such a thing has come about to be is so absolutely different…in the end, Shaw does not die because of Erik's revenge, he dies because of his desire to protect…and as the metal-kinetic turns around to leave the room, only as an afterthought floating Shaw's body behind him by the metal in his clothes, a proof to those outside that the battle is over, I know I have not lost him, I have not lost my Erik, not to revenge, not to Shaw…

I am crying and smiling at the same time, and it that moment everything is so absolutely perfect. Then I turn to look at Moira, and remember her deceit, I still want an explanation for that. She notices my look and seems to be able to understand it, even when I do not understand her.

"I promise I will explain, later." She assures quietly, seemingly confused for whatever the reason. "When this is all over."

"Shaw is dead." I tell her, just in case she's wondering. "I…I tried to incapacitate him, managed to do it in fact but then…" I shake my head and sighs. "Erik had to kill him. He…there really was no other way."

She nods, as if she has known all along it would come to this, one way or another, and maybe she's right, and maybe she did know.

"You will be explaining things Moira." I state, as serious as I've ever been. "To both Erik and I."

"I promise." She agrees immediately. "Now we need to get out. As much as I may hate to say this, it really isn't over just yet…"

I have no idea what she's talking about, though I still follow when she makes her way out of the wreckage that is the blackbird, a hand hovering slightly, probably unconsciously, over one of her guns, her eyes fixed straight over Shaw's defeated henchmen, who were being watched over by the rest of the members of our own team.

For a moment I'm shocked by the flash of guilt, very strong guilt I feel coming from Moira; it's just an instant, and soon I'm distracted by Erik's emergence from the sub, who lets Shaw's corpse drop to the sand without a word before using his own abilities to pretty much levitate himself down to the beach.

I can see the blood staining Shaw's clothes on his chest, remember the moment Erik shot the coin at him, through him, and can especially remember how his consciousness pretty much dragged mine away from Shaw, shielding me inside his own head, away from the pain, from the darkness, from the death. The change from the mark on the forehead I remember from a quick flash of Moira's memories to what I see before me seems strangely fitting, as much as the difference in the reasons why Erik planned to kill Shaw, and why he ended up actually doing it in the end.

I can feel Moira's confusion, as her mind lingers on the memory of Shaw's corpse floating in the air, a line of blood falling down her forehead; she's wondering how he died if the coin never went through his brain. I shake my head slightly in his direction, motioning a bit to my chest, knowing that will be enough to make her realize the change…even if it is one I myself cannot fully understand or its relevance…

"It's time for this senseless fighting to stop!" Erik calls loudly as soon as he's sure he has my attention, all of our attention. "Shaw has been stopped, a senseless war has been averted, and how are we rewarded? By the humans turning against us all. I feel their guns moving in the water. Their metal, targeting us. Americans, Soviets, humans. United in their fear of the unknown." He snorts. "It's how it was always going to turn out, mutants versus humans." He turns to me. "Go ahead Charles, tell me I'm wrong."

There is a look in his eyes, like he knows I'm hurting at the mere idea of what he's saying, and yet at the same time he's trying hard to make me understand. And I do…Oh god I do! As I reach out to the minds of everyone on those ships, as I sense their intent, they have heard Moira, everything she's said to the radio, everything we're doing, we've done…and they just don't care. They have their orders, given by higher ranked officials, Moira's own superiors, they are to fire on Cuba, on this beach…on us.

I turn to look at Moira in one desperate second, wanting her to try, one more time, even when I know already how useless it is. When she won't look at me I call into her mind, she does not answer, not in her mind at least, though I can still feel her hurt.

"It's useless Charles." She says after what seems like forever, softly, so full of that same hurt I sensed in her mind. "I've tried establishing communication ever since we crashed. The radio is working, they're just not answering…they do not care."

"They've abandoned us, abandoned you here…" Erik states, a hint of compassion in his voice.

And it is then that I realize just how bad it must be for her; while we may have considered her a part of the team at least since our arrival to Westchester, she's still technically a CIA Agent; she's one of them, and they're condemning her too.

"I'm just one person…" She mutters bitterly.

"And we're not even that." Erik finishes.

I can sense her flinch, and before I can stop myself I'm trying to comfort her psychically.

*It's okay Charles…* She whispers in my mind.

*No, it's not.* I reply.

*Ok, it's not.* She agrees. *Don't take me wrong, I think it's an honor to be considered as part of this group. I just…I cannot believe someone…people I have had the greatest respect for, can care so little for the lives of others. Not just mine, but yours as well…It's not fair…*

I know she's right, but I have nothing else to say, no words I can say will amount to much in the end. Not in our situation.

And then, the ships fire. So many missiles, there's no way I could have ever stopped them all from being fired, even if I'd tried. I turn to Erik, knowing that if this is to be the end, I want him to be the last thing I see…then he raises a hand, and all the weapons freeze in midair…

"Erik…" I whisper.

I see him move his hand slightly, the missiles ever so slowly turning in the air, until they're pointed in the very direction they came from. For a moment my heart stops, as I wonder if Erik is really going to do what it seems he will, if he will murder all those men, innocent men! They're just following orders! But even as those words enter my mind I know it would be the worst thing I could possibly say, especially to him, so I swallow my words; trying and failing to find anything else to say to him.

*I heard you anyway.* I hear him in my mind.

I wince slightly, I had forgotten our minds were still connected.

*I'm sorry.* I whisper back at him.

*You didn't actually say it, you understand why it's wrong.* He replies fairly easily. *It's not your fault I seem to be the telepath right now.* he shrugs. *And you know very well what I would have said if those words had actually left your lips, right?*

*I know, and I am deeply sorry.* I insist to him.

*Do you trust me Charles?* He asks out of nowhere.

I see the missiles begin to move, away from him, in the direction of the ships, of all the terrified soldiers in them…

*Terrified soldiers who want to kill us just because we do not adjust to their idea of what's normal.* Erik points out coldly.

*Please, please do not kill them, Erik…you're better than this.* I plea, not knowing what else to say, telepath or not, I have no idea at all.

*I said: do you trust me Charles?* He insists. *Just answer yes or no.*

The loud click of the safe of a gun being unlocked interrupts our silent conversation. I turn to my other side to see Moira raising her gun to aim past me, straight at Erik, who just turns to look straight at her, with a mix of curiosity and defiance.

For what seems like forever I just wait to see who will make the first move, praying that things won't go all to hell, even more than they seem to be already… I get the briefest flash of a scene, so fast I don't think even Moira realizes the thought has slipped through her shields, I think it might be myself, falling to the sand, body arched in obvious pain.

The next instant the safety is back on and the gun is falling to the sand, Moira's hands trembling, her eyes wide, and I get a quite distinct thought, almost a yell, coming from her mind:

_I'm not making the same mistake again!_

"You haven't answered my question yet Charles." Erik repeats once more time, this time aloud.

No one else is moving, especially not the children, seemingly completely staggered by the stand-off between us.

"Yes Erik, I trust you." I finally answer.

And really, there was no other answer I could have given, I trust Erik. How can I not after all he has done? Shaw may be dead, but Erik was still willing to do things my way, only killing him when that madman threatened others…me? He has that helmet there, on his hand, and still hasn't tried it on, even though he knows the kind of power I have, and the protection that item would offer him. He's trusting me so absolutely, in a way no one has before (because no one but him has the slightest idea of the power I really have)…how can I possibly do anything but return that trust in the same way?

The missiles shot across the air, coming closer and closer to the ships, we all watch with baited breath and…a handful of feet before reaching their target, they all explode in quick succession.

I can sense the mix of relief, elation and sense of victory coming from around me a second before my students begin yelling in celebration.

Once that's taken care of I turn back to Erik, who's eyeing Shaw's former followers carefully. Azazel has just woken up Riptide, while Angel is standing close to them, holding one hand against her opposite shoulder in obvious pain, I pick up from her outer-thoughts that Alex sliced off half of one of her wings when she tried to attack him and Sean after they crashed onto the beach a few minutes ago.

"Will you try to attack us now?" Azazel asks, politely yet guarded, to both Erik and I.

"If you try it, we'll fight back." Riptide announces through a groan of pain.

I cannot imagine how he would manage that, it's obvious that the hit he took when Erik ripped off part the sub and hit him with it still pains him; still, that doesn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Why should we do that?" Erik asks simply. "Do you have any intention of attacking us?"

Ever so slowly Azazel shakes his head, it's obvious he doesn't believe things can be that easy.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was time for all the senseless fighting to stop." Erik insists, calm and strong, as the leader he's meant to be. "We're meant to be on the same side."

"Against the humans?" Angel asks bitterly. "Yeah sure…"

It's obvious by the way she looks at me that she doesn't believe that could ever be possible.

"If it ever comes to that, yes." Erik nods.

He can obviously sense my uneasiness, as well as the distrust that is expanding from Angel to the others as he turns to me, waiting for me to help him this time.

"I do not like the idea." I say, trying to compromise, yet hold onto my beliefs at the same time. "I wish for nothing but peace…but if the only way to protect those I care for, my friends and family, is to fight, then that's exactly what I will do. Against whoever I have to, whether it's a human or a mutant, or a mix of both."

*Though I still we rather try a diplomatic solution first.* I send to Erik, in a tone that shows that's as far as I'm willing to compromise.

*Sure, as many as you want. But the next time they fire missiles, or any other weapon at us, or those under our care, I will do more than scare them.* Erik states, in the same tone as I.

I can agree with that. Like I said before, if those under my care are threatened, I too will fight back; for Erik…for our children…

I get a hint of something I can't quite name, a mix of surprise, awe and…love, and then I realize I was unconsciously projecting my thoughts into the connection I still have open with Erik. He knows everything I just thought.

*Do you mean it?* He asks, in a voice so small I can hardly believe it belongs to me.

There is no hesitation in my answer, not even for a second. *Every word.*


	2. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle in Cuba is over and won, now it's time for the friends and family to regroup and recover...and for Charles and Erik to own up to their feelings... 
> 
> Also, how will the young students react when they find out? 
> 
> (Here is what happened with Charles and Erik after Cuba, and the 'morning after' Moira only mentioned in passing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...here is where this fic begins to earn its genres, and rating...yeah, all of it: romance, angst, and the M...Nothing explicit, really. I would call it citrus, though still, to consider that the closest I've come to a lemon in over a decade writing fanfiction happened here, and with a yaoi pairing... (nothing against them, truly, I'm writing it after all, though I'm still surprised at myself). 
> 
> This chapter includes my own version of Charles's past...some things I got from the comics, other from wikipedia, forums, or even various other fanfics. Some things might fit what you're used to, others might not. Trust that everything is a certain way for a reason. I hope you'll like it.

**Chapter 2. Bond (Charles)**

Sean has a dislocated shoulder, Angel a burn on an arm along with a torn wing, Riptide (whose real name we learn is Janos) has a concussion, and then there are the variety of cuts and bruises we are all sporting. Erik's condition being a tad more serious than the average (though not as much as the others), with bruised ribs, a nearly-cracked skull and serious bruising on his back.

Sean, Angel and Janos are seen to the infirmary with some help from Alex, Hank and Raven, who have offered to help deal with their wounds, since they aren't bad enough to require hospital (and we would rather avoid hospitals right now).

After repeated assurances that they will be able to handle things, that they definitely will not kill each other in my absence, and Erik's absolute refusal at staying in the makeshift infirmary Moira and Hank thought of setting up before leaving for Cuba, I guide my friend back to his own room. At least I have a very good first-aid kit in my bathroom, which allows me to treat Erik's injuries myself, at least well enough to be sure he won't get worse.

It takes a while, certainly longer than Erik seems to have patience for. It saddens me to think how little regard he has for his own injuries, his own life…

"You know," He says suddenly. "I'm quite certain I will survive even if you don't bandage every single one of my scrapes."

I shake my head, in no mood to joke about this. I'm painfully aware of how close I came to lose him: first to Shaw, in that battle in the Nuclear Reactor room, where I could barely reach their minds, and Shaw's not all; and later on to Shaw, granted, in a different way, when Erik had come so close to turning into him…

"Charles…?" He asks.

His hand is on my hair, tugging slightly, and I can sense some apprehension in the back of my mind. My silence has worried him.

"I'm alright." I assure him, finally putting the remaining supplies back in the first-aid kit. "I just…" I'm not sure I can voice what's on my mind, but I still try. "I'm painfully aware of how close I came to loosing you. I…I do not know if I could survive without you…"

Great, there I have gone and gotten ahead of myself. I don't even yet know if he accepts my love, if he has even fully processed my thought from earlier; and here I'm already making an even more dramatic declaration, Could I even any more foolish? It will be my own fault if he ends up running from me and…

Suddenly, my mind blanks. For the longest seconds I'm not sure why exactly this has happened. Until I, ever so slowly, become aware of the breath mingling with mine, the taste of scotch (for the pick-me up we had just before I got to work on his wounds) on my tongue, the chapped, strong, yet caring lips against mine. He's kissing me! Erik is kissing me! And suddenly nothing else matters! Nothing at all, except this incredible love that fills me completely, that seems almost too great to fit inside of me…

An instant later we're gasping, my mind reeling in the aftershock of a love that seemed to keep growing, more and more, in a neverending loop. A loop…

"What was that?" Erik asked, half-groaned.

His hands are holding tightly onto my arms, it should hurt, but it doesn't; my mind is still on the multitude of sensations I just felt, which I'm sure we both felt just now.

"Charles!" He practically yells, and I can hear him both in and out of my mind at once.

And suddenly it dawns on me. The rush of memories and feelings making way through my mind and through his too: I was fighting with all my strength to reach him, to reach Erik as he fought for his life, for all of our lives against Shaw… even with the cracks in the mirror walls, it still took a great deal of effort just to brush against the edge of his consciousness; more walls were broken, and even as I flinched at the pain Erik had to be in after taking those hits I couldn't help the delight at being able to connect with him again… eventually the helmet came off, and I hurried to restrain Shaw as best I could… new plans were made, compromises…a threat was screamed, and right as I thought I might have to go through a psychic death after all, a presence took hold of my consciousness, pulling me away from Shaw and into him, he was just so familiar I didn't even try to resist, and the psychic effort ended up pulling me far deeper into the other's minds than we could have planned… So deep, I was there still.

"Oh God Erik…I'm so sorry…" I gasp, dropping to my knees without even noticing.

"What?" Erik pulls me to sit beside him. "Wha…Don't apologize Charles. I don't even know what you're supposed to be apologizing for!"

*This…* I whisper directly into his mind, projecting the touch of my hand on his face.

The reaction is instant: he lets go of me, only to touch his own cheek, where, a part of his mind is telling his my own hand is, despite the fact he can see it, both my hands in fact, folded on my lap.

"How…" He seems to be unable to voice any questions, but his mind more than makes up for it. *My face…your hands…How are you doing…this? What are you doing exactly? What are you doing to me now Charles?!*

*I'm am sorry, my friend…*

*Stop apologizing Charles! Just explain things!*

*When we were in Cuba, when I was trying to restrain Shaw…he was trying to fight me off, to attack you…attack us all.*

*He threatened to kill you…*

*I know. I knew you were going to kill him the moment you made up your mind. I…I was actually bracing myself for it.*

*Bracing…Charles, what would have happened if I had killed Shaw with you still there?*

*I believe you already know the answer to that question Erik. It's why you did what you did, isn't it? Why you got me out…*

*It…I wasn't even sure why I was doing it. It was just an instinct. I knew it was a bad idea for you to be there.*

*So you pulled me out.* Charles sighs. *But you didn't just pull me out of his mind, you…I guess the best way to put it would be to say you were trying to protect me, so you pulled me to your own mind. And since I didn't resist…I ended up going deeper than expected…*

*Charles, stop fucking around and give me a straight answer!*

I actually lower my face and close my eyes at his words, I really don't want to see Erik's face when he hears what I'm going to be saying; I'm sure his reaction won't be good; and the mere idea of him rejecting me, repudiating me…it is more than I can bear…

*We're linked Erik. I ended up so deep in your consciousness that our minds…no, my mind ended up creating a link to yours…a bridge you could say. It was the only way for me to be there without snapping the connection to my own body, and to be able to return to myself later on.*

*This link, is it permanent? Can we break it somehow?*

I have to press my fists against my mouth to keep a strangled cry from escaping my lips, though something tells me Erik probably knows anyway.

*I…I don't know. I had never created a link like this. I…I suppose it could be broken. Maybe with that helmet or another telepath or…*

That's as far as I get, even in my mind I just cannot keep talking. And no matter how hard I try, I am quite sure that the hit of agony that tears at my heart can probably be felt by Erik. I know because I can hear him gasp, and god I really, really never wanted to hurt him. I can endure everything, even tear my own heart, my own soul apart, but there mere idea of him hurting because of me just kills me!

"Charles…" I hear him mutter aloud.

"I'm sorry…" I gasp, and since my mind refuses to let my voice out for more than that I have to continue in our minds: *I'm so very sorry Erik, please believe me, I did not know what I was doing. If I had I would have never done it…*

*You wouldn't…?* Erik asks in a voice that seems half-empty.

*Of course not, never.* I'm lying, oh god I'm lying, but how can I not agree with what I know he wants, and that is for this not to be?

Another ripple of agony comes, so staggering I lose my breath for a moment; and it's only when I fight to get it back that I realize something: the agony did not come from me.

*Don't want…of course he doesn't want…who would ever want a permanently open door in my head…mein gott, I wouldn't want an open door into my head! Damaged goods…I'm nothing but damaged goods…bad…ruined…*

The self-deprecation goes on and on, I do not think he even realizes he's projecting…actually, for all intents and purposes he's not even projecting, I can just hear him because of this bond we have in our minds! And God! He's probably going to kill me for hearing this, for ever reacting to his words, but I cannot just allow him to think he's anything less than the strongest, most amazing, wonderful, brightest man I've ever met!

*Do…do you mean that?* The question comes, small and unsure but it comes.

It seems Erik isn't the only one who ends up projecting things without realizing right now! And since I cannot think of anything right to say, and really, in the last few seconds things have gone from being so beautifully perfect to heart-wrenching awful…that I just do not see a point in holding anything back anymore…so I drop all my shields, truly letting him, letting someone into my mind for the first time ever:

_The love of my early childhood, with my father, who was so busy yet always had time for me, who would read me a bedtime story every night, regardless of if he'd a project to finish in his lab, or friends coming to see him for something 'urgent'…Curiosity, why is it that my mom is never as caring as my dad?...The deep loss, the grief, the pain at the loss of my life, the loss of my innocence and all I ever dreamt my life being…_

_Then when my gift had activated. I was still so young, and my desire to understand why my mom wasn't like other moms, why she didn't seem to care…my telepathy manifested and I suddenly discovered that it wasn't just what it looked like, she truly did not care…it was a pain such that it almost surpassed what I'd felt at my father's death, because I suddenly realized I was alone, not just because of this strange gift no one else seemed to have, but because I did not have anyone who cared…not anymore._

_My mother's second husband, my father's colleague and best friend: Kurt Marko, and his son Cain…A father so strict he would beat his son at the slightest provocation, and insult my father's own parenting when I didn't adjust to his ideas of what was right. A son who took out the anger he felt for his father on the one person he knew wouldn't fight back: me._

_Raven: the terribly sweet, exotically beautiful, surprisingly innocent and terribly vulnerable child who I found in my kitchen one night, trying to steal some food to survive one more day. I offered her a home, and she never realized what she was giving me in exchange: a family._

_I had to protect Raven, I couldn't let anyone hurt her. So I always made sure that Cain wouldn't notice anything odd about her, made sure he always took his anger out on me, never on her. I was the older brother, and I was the one who convinced her to stay, I had to protect her. She'd already given me a family, I was willing to give anything for that._

_The one time I wasn't able to manipulate Cain, not even with my powers, into leaving Raven alone. He was going after her…he was going to hurt her…so I did the only thing I could think of. I attacked him. I never realized just how bad things could turn out. I'm never been a particularly strong person, after persuading Raven to hide in the attic I had to run, we ended up in the old lab…and my step-father found us there. He was absolutely furious. He began punishing Cain, and it was so much worse than ever before. Then Cain yelled that I should be punished as well and…my mother's voice coming from the second floor, they're going to be late for some society event or another. And then Cain is moving, he's trying to attack me again. His father attempt to stop him…and it all goes to hell._

_I'm only half aware of someone pushing me in the direction of the lab's door, just a fraction of a second before it turns into what could believably be called hell._

_An explosion…fire…screams…pain…I can hear Raven, in my head and out of it, she's terrified. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be dead or alive._

_The firefighters are here, as are the police, and paramedics. They've found my step-fathers body, but no one knows what happened to Cain. There's so much wreckage. A wall fell, revealing a piece of old tunnels, but there is no sign of Cain. The police asked me what has happened, I tell them there was an accident, and that I don't remember anything else._

_Finishing all of my high-school courses as soon as I am able, before running off to Oxford to continue my education. I buy a flat there, I want nothing to do with the old, too big house with too many bad memories and no comfort…_

_Getting a letter from the lawyers explaining my mother has passed, everything now belongs to me. I make an appearance at the funeral for propriety's sake, but not a single tear falls; all she ever did related to being a mother was give birth to me, and even that was something she regretted…I know. I give orders for the mansion to be kept in good condition and then fly back to Oxford, wanting to do anything but return ever again._

_Spending evening after evening seducing young girls with ridiculous pick-up lines and speeches of mutations, evolution and what makes them special. Really, none of them has anything I would truly consider extraordinary but between the alcohol and their bodies I'm able to forget for at least a night what a failure my whole life is. How lonely I truly feel…_

_And then…a pretty auburn-haired girl approaches me after I have just drunk a yard of ale in celebration of my graduating Oxford. She's not the kind I usually seduce, not an easy girl, that's easy to see. Especially when she begins talking about having attended my thesis presentation and needing my help concerning it. Concerning mutants…_

_There is such awe in me as I see into Moira's mind: see a woman turning into diamond and a man with red skin and devil-like appearance disappearing in a cloud of sulfuric smoke. It's like seeing a light I didn't know existed. For many years I'd known I couldn't be the only one, there was Raven after all, but still, to know for sure there are more…it's both delightful and humbling._

_The visit to the CIA doesn't go to well, and even with Raven's rather abrupt intervention I cannot help but wonder if it wouldn't have been better just to stay out of the whole thing…and then I find myself in a boat off the Coast of Miami, watching as an anchor and the huge chain attached to it seems to fly through the air while tearing apart the yacht it's still attached to._

_The cold shocks me, reminding me of how much I hate the ocean, have since Cain almost drowned me in one of his bouts of pettiness during our last visit to the beach. Yet I only needed to know that there was someone down there, someone who needed help, who might need me. And all the insecurities, the fears, were forgotten and I was jumping off the government ship with no thought of myself, only wanting to save that man, save him. Nothing else mattered, only making sure that he did not die that night._

_When my mind touches his…it is like touching the sky, in more ways than I can possibly begin to name. There is so much darkness, so much pain, and rage, and hate; but, contrary to popular belief, I'm no stranger to any of those feelings, I've felt them before, in others and in myself, I am a telepath after all, and as much as I cannot help but read other minds sometimes, it's also impossible to control unless I know my own mind. But, despite all that, what truly marvels me, is the bright core at the very center of the man's consciousness, it's so bright…it draws me like a moth to a flame._

_Women have never interested me. Some fun in between sheets is one thing, but I've never been one to be interested in anything that lasts more than a few nights at most. In that moment…I suddenly realize why I have never felt attracted to the women I bedded, it's because of him, a part of me has been waiting for him all along. And while I know being in love with a man (particularly because I am one as well) is not accepted, it's even illegal, I know my own mind, and my heart; and as absolutely insane as I know the whole thing is, I also know no one will ever attract me as much as he does by just his present, it's like he's magnet, or maybe the earth using its own gravitational force to draw the moon in…_

_His name is Erik, Erik…and as I tell him he's not alone, I'm telling those same words to myself. I'm truly not alone…and it's all thanks to Erik…_

_The next night…he's going to leave. I know it before he does, I've known it since we set foot on the CIA HQs, that he would only stay as long as he found us useful. And it hurts, I cannot believe he cannot sense the connection; but I'm also afraid to try and initiate something that might not go anywhere. Still, I cannot help but talk to him, try and convince him in an off-handed way, trying to persuade him to stay, yet at the same time trying not to show him just how much I need him to be with me… Y even go as far as telling him I could make him stay 'Could…but won't' As if…as if I could ever make him do anything against his will, power or not…forcing him to do anything, forcing myself on him in anyway…it would simply destroy me. It does not matter that I just met him 24 hours prior…I need him, as much as I need the air. It makes no sense, but it's still the absolute truth…_

_Erik has become my anchor. He may not know it, and I may never tell him. But that's what he's now to me. The first time I used Cerebro, the shock of suddenly being able to touch so many minds sent me reeling, and it was just him, his mind, that reminded me about reality, that allowed me to pull myself back to my own body rather than get lost in the sea of minds, mutant and human alike, suddenly at my reach. It's only thanks to him that I remained sane._

_The weeks spent on the road, tracking down the mutants found through the Cerebro. I feel such freedom in his company, like I have a second chance to live and enjoy life. He's given me that, in a way that Raven, dear as she may be to me, has not been able to. I can feel my attraction to him growing and shifting ever so slowly, until I'm almost completely sure I'm in love. And yet again I remind myself that it shouldn't be, that's it's not right, by law or by God…but how can something that makes me feel so good, even when kept in the limits of my mind, be so wrong?_

_Our group is formed, and before long we're in Russia, in an attempt to get Shaw. My second since my teaming up with the CIA. It fails as much as the one on Miami did. Though at least this time we get something out of it (something besides me nearly having at stroke when Erik goes rushing through nearly a dozen soldiers, into an unknown house), we've captured the Shaw's telepath, Emma Frost, and finally learnt what Shaw's aim truly is: Nuclear War. It's worse than my worst nightmare…_

_As if that weren't bad enough we get back to America to find one of our own has been murdered by Shaw, another has chosen to turn her back on us to go with him, and the rest of the 'children' have been permanently traumatized after having to witness that along with the murder of every single agent in the compound at the hands of Shaw's own henchman. Maybe it's not that much of a wonder that Angel chose to change sides rather than risk the same fate…still it doesn't make things any easier._

_We end up going to the old family estate in Westchester because, realistically, there is nowhere else we can go and, to my own surprise, being there with them, makes my heart ache less than I thought it would, and keeps most ghosts at bay. I may never forget all those old pains, but at least I'm building new memories, which allow me to see the old mansion as more than a place of pain and despair…_

_There's so much happening in a week, enough for a lifetime it would seem. So much to learn, so much to grow into. And so much love to feel…Even if I have yet to recognize it fully as such._

_The brightest memory is of that day, on the terrace, watching as Erik turns a satellite dish around, his whole self radiating exuberance, awe, delight, and a high not unlike some would get when consuming certain drugs. In that moment, as I watched his smile, as I feel his joy, I can almost believe that this might truly be the beginning of the rest of our lives._

_Until we watch a grim speech, and then the two of us have a game of chess with some scotch, and the conversation is way too dark for a night like that. Then I realize that despite how bright his core might be there's still a lot of pain in him, and it might just be enough to take him from me. I might lose him…and nothing has made me hurt this much since my father died…_

_The next day truly doesn't make things any better. Not the suits, not the train, not even the new wave of high I can sense as he manages to pull a submarine out of the ocean with nothing but his will and a memory…the point between rage and serenity…then we crash-land on a beach in Cuba and it all goes to hell._

_Dizziness, confusion, insanity, despair… I'm so freaked out, convinced that I'm going to lose him; lose him to Shaw, whether Erik kills him or the other way around, he won't be my Erik by the end of the day. And Goddamned it he has never been my Erik but it still hurts! It hurts so much I feel like I would rather die because death truly is preferable to have to live tomorrow and the rest of my life with pain like the one I'm only beginning to touch._

_When Erik decides not to put on that helmet, when he accepts to go another route than him just killing Shaw where he stands. It's a miracle, and I haven't been a very religious man, not since my father died and my whole life seemed to go to hell in so many ways; but in that moment I'm ready and willing to thank any God, saints, angels, spirits and whatever other superior beings necessary because…Lord! Erik is still himself…_

_Shaw may be killed eventually, Erik may be the one to kill him, but he did not do so in anger, in revenge, he did it to protect (possibly protect me). And that has made all the difference…_

_What's more, Erik has chosen to protect me in a way I could have never expected: by pulling me into his mind. I can hardly believe I did not realize the consequences of this from the very beginning, the connection that has been formed between our minds. And while I know that he's a very private person, and as much as I may fear how he will take this, how he may come to hate me for it all…I cannot help the hope that this may finally give me my Erik…_

_Erik…Erik…Erik…Oh God I love you…I never thought something like this would be possible. I care not about laws, or about supposed morals or religions…My father always talked about the perfect love, and while I may have lost hope on it for the longest time after my mother, and my stepfather, and so many women that passed through my bed…it was until Erik, until he touched my heart, that I truly realized what he meant. And I know that love is love, perfect and absolute, and nothing else matters._

_And the kiss from just now. So much love, so much…want. His feelings and mine, entwining and looping and growing from one to the other in an everlasting spiral…it is perfection._

_Erik…I swear I love you more than my own life…and I always will._

The rush of images and feelings stop for all of one second, before it begins all over again, only this time it's not a memory, it's the present, it's real…it's Erik's lips on mine and if heaven does exist…this is gotta be it. And if this is not heaven, then it does not matter, because this is all I need, all I'll ever need.

And in this moment of absolute perfection I know, without a doubt, that as long as Erik Lehnsherr is by my side, we can do anything…the world is ours.

That is pretty much the last coherent thought I have, because soon all is sensation: fire, passion, lust, want and love so great it cannot be measured properly. It's inside me, all around, and I feel like losing my sense of self; who I am, who he is; there is only us, and a union that brings the greatest pleasure, not only physical (I've known much pleasure like that, and it cannot begin to compare with this), it's also mental, emotional, and a lot more things I do not even know the words to name…

**xXx**

The next morning is the strangest feeling: the mix of warmth, safety, love…for the longest time I have no idea where I am, what time it is, I'm not even sure who I am…I have never felt this way before. As consciousness begins creeping up on me I begin realizing how odd the situation I find myself in is: I'm waking up in a bed, which I'm quite sure is not mine, despite the fact that the mattress is pretty comfy, it's just an instinct I have, the ghost of a memory: I didn't make it back to my bed last night.

That, in itself is a surprise in so many levels. Along with the fact that I'm not waking up alone. True, I may have spent time on bed with many other people, many women to be precise, but it was always their beds, not mine, and I never stayed long after we were both satisfied; always making a point of returning to my flat, even if it was in the early hours before dawn. Staying the night with someone else implied a commitment I wasn't willing to even begin to consider, less of all suggest. And yet here I find myself now…

Then there's the fact that the body against mine is cradling me, holding me protectively against it, rather than the other way around; and it's most definitely not a female body. For a fraction of a second I panic; while I definitely have been beyond drunk more than a few times in my life, and I may not have what one would call much compunction on who I end up with in bed, I'm pretty certain I've never bedded a man before; and the way he holds me, the way my own body is responding to his unconscious touch seems to imply that we did that, and more last night.

*Mmm…* I hear a husky murmur in the back of my mind. *Too early in the morning for that much thought…*

Before I open my mouth to question what exactly is going on I feel a rather open mouthed kiss on the back of my neck, which causes a shiver to run down my spine…and a rather more physical reaction to a lower part of my anatomy…I arch against him instinctively, feeling a response from his body signaling a similar state of arousal. And right as my mind is about to go nuts with all the things it cannot yet understand, I call out one single word instinctively.

"Erik…" It's half-moan, half-gasp, but it can still be heard.

And suddenly everything is right, because I know exactly who it is I'm nestled against, whose arousal I'm feeling pressing against my backside, whose caresses are lighting me up, creating a fire that shouldn't be possible after such little sleep and the extremely tiring day.

"Well," I hear in that same seductive voice as a tongue traces the shell of my ear. "It's all your fault really. I was perfectly comfortable just sleeping, when your loud thinking woke me up."

"I had no understanding of my surroundings for a minute." I admit in a low whisper.

"No understanding…" He repeats, before suddenly blanching. "You did not remember?"

Before I can find it in myself to answer a set of strong arms suddenly takes hold of me, flipping me around. I instinctively make to get closer to him, to burrow against his chest but he refuses to let me; holding me at enough distance to meet my head.

"Do you not know what happened last night?" He asks in all seriousness.

"I remember now." I answer sheepishly.

"Charles, I'm not joking here." He practically snaps.

It takes me a fraction of a second, still half lost as I am in the feelings of safety, warmth, care; when suddenly I'm hit by the rush of horror, insecurity, fear, and a ghost of a thought:

*Please tell me he's not regretting last night…*

"I regret nothing my love." I assure him, turning my head just enough to kiss the fingers holding my face. "I just was feeling so absolutely perfect I had no consciousness of self for a while."

"Is that normal?" He sounds worried now, though the relief at my initial response can still be sensed as well.

"Honestly? I have no idea." I admit. "I had never felt this perfectly happy before."

"That makes two of us." He smiles, a smile that suddenly becomes a smirk. "Though…you have created a little problem."

I'm not quite sure what he means, until he purposefully presses his lower half against mine, and I can feel exactly what he means…

"Well, that's not what I consider a 'little' problem, but by all means, what do you want me to do?" I answer coyly, reaching to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"We can begin with a proper morning kiss…and then we'll see what else you can do for me."

I begin to laugh, but too soon that laugh is swallowed by the mouth pressing against mine, and I no longer care if I end up forgetting again where I am, or even my own name, I have all I want, all I'll ever need here, right at my fingertips.

It was the perfect beginning of a new life.

**xXx**

Eventually we have to get out of the bed, shower (separately because I know if we go together we will end up wanting each other again and I just am not sure my body can take it), and make our way to the kitchen. None of the children have gotten up just yet, something we take advantage of as Erik gets a cup of coffee, and I a cup of tea, enjoying the peace and the quiet before beginning to plan on making some breakfast for everyone.

We are almost finished, in fact, with Erik working on some French toast, while I make some scrambled eggs and fried bacon. We are making comments about anything and laughing about nothing in particular as we keep passing the other as we place things on the small table in the kitchen where we usually have our meals (because the dining room is simply too big and dreary and imposing to use unless we had no other choice). He has just offered me a bit of his French toast, after stealing a bite from the last piece of bacon right as I am about to put it on a place; we are moving closer together, about to kiss, when I abruptly become very aware of all the eyes watching us from the kitchen door.

They are all standing there, seemingly still half-asleep though, if their wide eyes are any indication, Erik's and my little display in the kitchen is more than enough to wake them up. They still have to offer any reaction whatsoever though.

*Seems the kids are up.* I say right into our link, trying to downplay just how nervous I am at the situation we suddenly find ourselves in.

Erik doesn't say a word, even through the link I can feel him beginning to lock up. He obviously thinks the worst is about to happen. After all, it is one thing to be considered against the norm for being mutants, that is something we can't help; but being gay, considering the fact that it is a crime…I just do not know how they are all going to react to what they have just seen. Then there is Moira…she is still with the government, with the law…and yet, for some reason, seems the least surprised of them all.

Eventually, after what seems like forever, there is movement. Raven is the first to move, she takes the pot of coffee Erik is still holding (as he was about to refill his cup), filling her own before returning it to him. Then she takes a sip before finally turning back to him, to us.

"Thanks for the coffee," She comments as she seats. "And it looks like you made breakfast too!"

"Raven…" I begin, not even sure what it is I want to say.

"What?" She asks, eyebrow furrowed.

I can't say a word. What can I say? How can I explain?

"Oh…that?" She signals with a hand to Erik and I. "Well…cannot say I didn't see it coming. Though I did think it would take you longer…considering how tight Erik acts most of the time, and how clueless I know you to be…"

"Raven!" I exclaim, flushing brightly.

"What?" She replies with a chuckle. "I am your sister. I always knew of your sexcapades, just like I always knew those girls were nothing to you…" her tone goes from joking to serious. "I also noticed the way you looked at Erik, have from that very night in Miami…you were just a bit slow on the uptake yourself. Both of you…"

"You're not…di…well…" I don't even dare say it.

"Why should it affect me who you've decided to love?" She shrugged. "Love is love in the end, right? As long as you're happy, as both of you're happy. You give us something to aspire to…" She shrugs again before raising her eyes over the rim of her cup and adding. "Just, please, if you're going to get all lovey dovey, do not do so in front of us, please…I can only take so much sweetness with my breakfast…"

Moira laughs outright at that before entering the room herself and preparing her own cup of coffe and joining Raven; saying not a thing about us; in fact, she has no reaction except for the badly hidden giggle she lets out before looking at both of us once or twice.

Silence reigns for nearly a full minute before my sister apparently notices that the boys are still standing at the door, she turns to them.

"What, you have a problem with my brother loving Erik?" She asks half defensively.

Maybe it's the way she phrases it, like it's perfectly natural, like it doesn't matter if she's just said the name of a man and not a woman…and maybe to her it truly doesn't.

The boys seem to consider it for a second or two, turning to look briefly at each other before they all shrug at the same time and enter the kitchen, helping themselves to some juice, coffee, tea and breakfast in general.

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as the mix of relief, confusion and wonder reaches me through the mind-link. Erik is still a bit tense, but definitely less so than he's been since we first noticed Moira and the children at the door. I go to sit at my usual place, on Raven's right, easily noticing how the others have left the next chair empty for Erik. I smile into my tea.

"Thank you Raven." I whisper to her in a low voice.

"I truly mean what I said." She assures me with a warm smile. "You're my brother Charles, you are the most important person in my life…all I want is for you to be happy. And if Erik is the one to bring you happiness…well, that's just fine by me."

"It's like you said." Moira adds, having overheard us from Raven's other side. "Love is love, no matter between whom." She takes a bite of the French toast, only to let out a small moan. "God, this is so great! Erik, I never imagined you could be this good in the kitchen! I might just have to drop by every so often if this is what you usually make for breakfast."

Erik mutters something under his breath about not being a housewife to cook every day but I just ignore him, enjoying the acceptance they all seem to have for our relationship.

**xXx**

Nearly an hour later we're all done with breakfast. I load the dishwasher and right as I'm about to turn around I can feel Erik against my back, snaking his hands around my waist.

"So…what's the plan for today?" He asks me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Well, make a few phone-calls, I need to know what exactly is needed to open a school if we are to turn this place into one. I also need to find a way to get my hands on copies of the school records of both Sean and Alex if I expect to begin helping them as soon as possible…"

"Oh, going all professor on me then?" He quips with a smirk.

I remember the first time Raven called me that, and how I told her I couldn't be called that yet, not until I had students, and now I do…wow…

"I suppose I am a real professor now, true." I nod, then shudder. "Next thing you know I'll be going bald or something."

His holds on me loosens enough for me to turn around while still close to him, and he seems confused at me words.

"My father went bald while still young so…yeah, it's a very real possibility." I explain.

"I truly hope not. I just love doing this…" he runs a hand through my hair. "And would hate not being able to do it anymore…"

I raise on my tiptoes a bit to deposit a kiss on the tip of his nose, a gesture he answers by pulling me closer to him and kiss me straight on the mouth.

We're interrupted by the sound of a body hitting a door. Sean is standing at the door that leads from the kitchen to the backyard. Frozen. Apparently our display distracted him enough to make him crash against the door.

We stop kissing but Erik refuses to let go of me fully, as we both wait to see just what Sean says. It was one thing when they were all together, but now that he's alone…

"Eww!" He finally exclaims.

"Really Sean." Raven arriving behinds him, asks. "Is that the best you can do? What are you, five?" she rolls her eyes. "This is how you should react to this kind of thing." She turns to us, eyes wide and an expression of total shock. "Get a room!" Then she giggles like crazy.

"Right…like that doesn't make you sound like a five year old…" Sean deadpans.

For all answer Ravens sticks out her tongue in his direction. Sean just laughs at her.

"Really, Eww." He insists as he turns back to us briefly before shuddering and walking away. "It's like walking in on my parents…"

That calls Raven's attention as she hurries after him, we just barely manage to hear her say one more thing before she's too far to be heard.

"And who exactly is supposed to be the mom?"

I just laugh, who indeed?

*Well, you would make an awesome mom…* Erik whispers inside my mind.

*I am not a woman.* I reply almost petulantly.

*No…* Even in our minds, his voice sounds husky, and the innuendo is unmistakable as he adds. *But you feel so much better than any woman…*

That's enough to make me flush as well as erase all the plans I might have made before about what I was to do today. As it is we might not be leaving the bedroom for the rest of the day! Well, it's not like the children cannot survive on their own for one day…hopefully…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the seduction, the innuendo and that sort of thing...I don't think I would be very good at outright writing lemon, so for the time being, this is the best I can do. Things will heat up a bit more in a few more chapters. But still nothing requiring Explicit rating...at least I don't think so.
> 
> Next chapter: the first one narrated by Erik (I truly hope it'll go well).


	3. Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Erik to have his say. 
> 
> Just how did meeting Charles, and everything they did together, change him? 
> 
> When did he decide he loved Charles? 
> 
> What was going on in his mind while in Cuba? 
> 
> And what about when he found out about the bond...?

**Chapter 3. Anchor (Erik)**

It all starts with an anchor. In one way or another. That first night, in Miami. I was so furious that Schmidt was, once again, getting away from me. And after having killed so many of his collaborators…really, all of those I could track, I had no idea who else I could use to get to him. What if there was no one else? What if I never found him again?

And maybe that, coupled with my half-insane need to continue my vendetta, made it so I suddenly did not care if I ended up dying in the attempt. In the end, death was preferable to surrender…Only I never got the chance, because he was suddenly there, clinging to my body and to my mind at the same time. And while a part of me still held onto that vendetta, another part couldn't help but want to feel more of that light he carried with himself…so bright, so warm, like nothing else I had ever seen, could have ever imagined…

After what happened in Auschwitz I had promised myself I wanted nothing to do with any government. In the end, they were all the same to me. So how did I end up working with the CIA? Right, it was his fault, his, the amazing, terrible man, telepath who had managed to tear down all my defenses with a single phrase:

_You're not alone._

I'm not some chick who will claim to have fallen in love at first sight, or second, or anything stupid like that. After all, as far as I was concerned, love is a weakness, if you love someone or something, it can be taken from you, used against you, to make you suffer…it's easier not to love. Not like I can actually claim to know much of love, not since Mamma, not since that bullet tore her from me…

No, it was not love…it was loyalty, and trust, and friendship and why not? Lust. Everything that is supposed to be so tightly connected with the so-called love.

The next few weeks are a blur in some ways, though I also know if I ever bother to look back on them my memories will be clear enough. I remember the days at the CIA, and then spending the rest of the summer going from Vegas, to Richmond, to Boston, and a number more places in between. We got more negatives from the mutants we were trying to recruit than affirmatives, not that I can blame them. I still had a hard time believing I was staying around at the time. And no…it was in no way connected to the way Charles's frighteningly deep blue eyes seemed to beg at me not to go that night, even as he stated that he would not use his powers to make me stay.

Russia was…a mess, to put it lightly. When I first decided to go after the White Queen regardless of the CIA's stance on the matter I expected Charles to try and convince them to wait for me at the very best, leave with them and completely forget about me at the very worst. Never in my wildest dream could I have expected him to actually ignore MacTaggert's orders and go after me, choose me over his human friend…Maybe if I had stopped to think back then, I would have realized I would have done the exact same thing in his place.

After Russia things only got worse. As if finding out Shaw's insane plan that somehow was supposed to include mutant domination, then we had the consequences of him attacking the base: dozens of dead, though, to be perfectly honest, I only cared about our own: Darwin. Then there was Angel, who had left with Shaw, and since she'd struck me as a fairly intelligent woman, I had to believe he had either threatened her, threatened them all, or the looks from all those stupid bastards in the Compound had gotten to her. And I'm not blind, or deaf, I know very well MacTaggert tried to help…still, it could never have been enough.

Right as I think I'll finally have an excuse…reason, reason, I do not need excuses…to take off and let the others handle themselves however they chose to, I somehow end up joining them all at the Xavier mansion. And then I hear Charles's and Raven's response about hardships he might have gone through in his childhood. And I'm not stupid, I know there's something he's hiding, something they're both hiding; but since I notice this only because I've been in that very position, not wanting to release painful secrets of my own past, I say not a world, let it slide…

That week is perhaps the most amazing, incredible, terrible, terrifying…so many words I could use to describe it. Every day I have to remind myself what my goal is, how I am going to get Shaw, how I'm going to finally get my revenge, destroy him, utterly and completely. And I know by going through with it I'm going to lose everything I've just gotten a taste of, in those days on the road with Charles, but especially in the time we spend together in the mansion. And while a part of me hates losing, especially losing something as great as that…I hate even more giving up on what's sustained me for nearly twenty years…my revenge.

I want Charles. Honestly, I doubt anyone with eyes in their heads and blood in their veins can help but like him, want him. The idea is not that far out there for me; even though thus far the only experience I've ever had with men are drunken trysts I remember very little of. But then again, in the years I've spent hunting Nazis and tracking down Shaw I've given myself little opportunity for pleasure, whether carnal or otherwise. Never anything more than a quick lay, something to feel good, somewhat, without having to show any vulnerability. And yet…as I watch Charles, I know that's not what I want of him, with him…with him I want something I've never had before…and that scares me. More than any fight, more than the nightmares of Auschwitz, of Shaw…more than my own death.

Rage and Serenity…the point between Rage and Serenity. It's what Charles said. It's what allowed me to move a satellite dish to face the mansion, allowed me to pull a submarine from the sea with nothing but my will…it's those words that I carry with me as I go to face Shaw for what I know will be the last time.

And yet, it's only rage that I have in mind as we fight, a fight of words as much as one of powers. He's taking me down, little by little, reminding me all the ways I'm unfit for anything, especially for one such as Charles. And then, as he keeps spouting all that insane spiel, calling me son, and placing us on the same side, a flash of Charles's expression, as he stands in the wreck of the sub, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes so full of concern…and I know he's trying to hold back his feelings, believing them to be distracting to me, or worse, that I might believe them to be some kind of insult, a way of his saying I cannot look after myself…but it is not that, and I know it. I know, just like I know that Charles could never say, or even think something like that.

And so, it is Charles what I hold onto as I pull at my powers one more time, and finally rip the thrice-damned helmet from his head.

In that moment I can see it with perfect clarity: the path I am meant to take in this life. The path I've been lead to since I was fourteen and I first met Herr Doktor…I could clearly remember my voice, the words I said to Charles just last night:

_Peace was never an option…_

No, it wasn't, and I knew that by forsaking peace I was also forsaking Charles. And as painful as that thought may be, I just do not know how else to live my life…

I see it clearly. I can see my next actions before I take them. Can see myself taking the helmet, putting it on, blocking myself from Charles once and for all, from his naivety, his goodness…his light. I can see myself using the silver coin, that thrice-forsaken nazi thing…putting it through Shaw's brain…it would be so easy…

It takes me a second to notice I still haven't put the helmet on; Charles is on the edge on my mind, not quite invading, but still clinging to me all the same. I can sense his nervousness, his exhaustion, his anxiety, and downright panic, and I realize then he's seen my thoughts, or at least a part of them, he knows what it is I'm about to do.

*Erik, please, you are the better man…*

And just like that, everything changes. It's as if the world has tilted on its axis, only it hasn't (believe me, I would know). No, the Earth is still the same, it's just my personal world that has suddenly changed irrevocably. Because with those words I realize, and what's more, I accept, that I just cannot give up on Charles…the mere thought of it hurts too much.

*Erik…* I hear him whisper in my mind like it's some kind of prayer. *Please Erik trust me… please, do not cut me out…*

Trust…such a simple, complicated, traitorous thing. I do not even trust myself! How am I supposed to trust him? How am I supposed to trust anything or anyone? Only, isn't that what I have been doing, from the very moment I let go of that submarine in the coast of Miami and let him pull me to the surface?

Then he's pleading with me, not wanting to lose me, and I can hear in the back of my mind, the memory of Moira's voice telling me not to turn into Shaw. And when the hell did MacTaggert become Moira? When did I begin seeing that woman as anything but an inferior being?!

I do not even realize that I've given in until I've said it, and I can sense Charles's delight enveloping my mind, like some kind of mental hug. Of course, the moment doesn't last long because abruptly Charles loses control of Shaw, the bastard begins ranting about destroying the children, destroying my Charles…and of course I cannot allow that. So I kill him. I do not even have to think about it, it's instinctive, just as it is to pull my Charles away from him, to protect him from the death that I'm about to deliver. In the end, the matter is faster and much less torturous than I had planned, dreamt many a night for the last nearly two decades. But then again, the bastard dared threaten what's mine, he really wasn't going to live after that… And have I just called Charles mine? More than once even? The children is understandable, they've been looking up to me all week, even if I'll never understand the reason why. But Charles? I truly hope he hasn't picked that up from my mind, especially when I don't yet have the slightest idea of what I'm trying to mean…

I'm exhausted, my back and my ribs hurt and all I want is to go back home…and maybe if I had a bit more energy I would blanch and maybe, maybe even freak out at the fact that for the first time since I was ten I'm seeing any place at all as home…

One would almost think the world is trying to spite me. By throwing those missiles at me, at us, after everything I've already gone through. Of course, it's really no effort to stop the weapons right before they can touch us, no effort at all…the question then is, what to do with them?

So much happens so fast, with Moira's pain as I remind her she's just one person, and we're not even that, her superiors care little for all of our lives; it's why they gave the order to fire at the beach in the first place.

I hear pieces of thoughts in my mind, something Charles considers briefly saying but in the end does not, and still I hear it. Such idiotic things, like the idea of men 'just following orders' is going to endear them to me in anyway…well, at least Charles had the good sense not to say that in the end. Still, that doesn't stop him from trying to convince me verbally to stop, particularly when I turn the missiles around and begin pushing them in the direction they came from.

Then there's Moira and her gun, and for a few seconds I feel nothing but hate towards her, convinced she's about to prove me right: humans are weak, and they will never be capable of living with us mutants, always choosing to attack us. Except that she doesn't. She chooses to drop her gun without firing a single shot, letting me choose what I'm going to do, leaving Charles to keep trying to convince me with words…maybe I was right when I said she was an exception, because I still don't believe that any considerable number of humans are or will ever be like her.

In the end it's all summarized in one question:

"Do you trust me Charles?"

It all comes down that, in the end. To the trust…the same I have never given, that I do not know if I can ever give, and yet in that moment I dare demand of Charles? I must be insane! Except he doesn't think so, because eventually (after a telepathic talk, and Moira with her gun, and the children just watching our stand off with so much fear and anxiety it can probably be cut with a knife), eventually an answer comes.

"Yes Erik, I trust you."

That undoes me. I have no idea what I might have been planning to do with the missiles when I first took control of them, even when Moira raised and then lowered her gun; but as Charles says those simple words, I know I just cannot betray that trust. But because I'm also still me I wait until the last possible second before making the missiles explode, right above the heads of all those idiotic humans. True, I could have just disabled them, or sent them up into the atmosphere, or deep into the sea; but I still want to teach them a lesson, want those humans to realize they're only alive because of my own mercy.

Once that's taken care of I turn to look at Shaw's former followers. And as I see their obvious injuries, their defeat, I cannot help the pride that fills me: because the ones who took them down, it's the children that I…that Charles and I trained…our children…

I keep observing them for a while, giving them the chance to make the first move.

"Will you try to attack us now?" Azazel asks, politely yet guarded, to both Charles and I.

"If you try it, we'll fight back." Riptide announces through a groan of pain.

I barely hold back the desire to snort, I really do not see who he thinks he's tricking, it's quite obvious he's in no state to fight at all.

"Why should we do that?" I ask simply. "Do you have any intention of attacking us?"

Ever so slowly Azazel shakes his head, it's obvious he doesn't believe things can be that easy.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was time for all the senseless fighting to stop." I insist calm and sure, drawing strength from Charles's presence. "We're meant to be on the same side."

"Against the humans?" Angel asks bitterly. "Yeah sure…"

It's obvious by the way she looks at Charles that she doesn't believe him capable of such a thing.

"If it ever comes to that, yes." I nod.

I can somehow sense Charles's uneasiness at my statement but I don't say a thing, just turning his way. Really, he was the one who first had the idea of us mutants banding together, if he really wants that to work he will need to give, at least to a point…

"I do not like the idea." He says, after a long while. "I wish for nothing but peace…but if the only way to protect those I care for, my friends and family, is to fight, then that's exactly what I will do. Against whoever I have to, whether it's a human or a mutant, or a mix of both."

*Though I still we rather try a diplomatic solution first.* He adds in my mind, in a tone that shows he's already compromised as much as he's willing to.

*Sure, as many as you want. But the next time they fire missiles, or any other weapon at us, or those under our care, I will do more than scare them.* I tell him in the very same tone.

I can feel his agreement with the sentiment and then…something else, a whisper of  _our children_  reaches my mind and I cannot help the double-take. Is Charles projecting? I do not know, but I cannot help the mix of surprise, awe and…something else I daren't name yet that fills me almost to bursting point in an instant.

*Do you mean it?* I ask, almost without noticing I am projecting my question to him.

The lack of hesitation to his answer serves to put me more at ease than the words themselves.

*Every word.*

**xXx**

Moira and Raven have the forethought of setting a good example by mending fences with Angel and being welcoming with the other two, an example the boys grudgingly follow. Something good, seeing as my ribs are killing me, same as my back, and I really don't want to have to get into a fight when we're all supposed to be on the same side now…

Minutes later we're back in my room and Charles is taking great care in treating every single one of my injuries, and while it certainly is better than the alternative (which is staying in Hank's infirmary in the basement, something I wouldn't do unless I were dying) I still cannot help but think Charles is taking way too long…usually I do not bother with bruises and scrapes, it's not like they'll kill me, and my ribs just need a bandage around my torso, it's not like they're actually broken or anything. Charles doesn't seem to agree with me…though that's not news actually, we seem to disagree more than we ever agree…it's a wonder we're not at each other's throats all the time…though that thought certainly has some merit, even if not exactly in the context I may have thought it initially…

It feels like it's been too long since a word has been said, and I begin to worry.

"Charles…?" I'm not even sure what I'm asking, I just want him to talk, and if my question is not enough I tug a bit on his hair…his gorgeous hair, for good measure.

"I'm alright." He assures me eventually, as he puts the first-aid kit away. "I just…I'm painfully aware of how close I came to loosing you. I…I do not know if I could survive without you…"

For a handful of way too long seconds I remain frozen. And really, I cannot fully believe I'm hearing what I think I am. After all, Charles has been known to use certain double entendres without meaning to before…and I've never seen him interested in anything but women. And yet, as I see the shock in his own expression, like he cannot fully believe what he just said either, I remember his last words before we left Cuba. And, damn it all to hell! Because suddenly the want is too great and I decide I might as well take the risk.

He tastes like scotch, and I know I must as well, really, the scotch may not do a thing to numb the pain of my wounds (and I did try it once), but it certainly helps me relax after the adrenaline high from the battle. Charles's lips are soft, pliant; I could almost compare them to those of a woman, except there is a strength, a will in them, in him, a wish to give as good as he gets, in a way no woman could ever hope to imitate.

It's in that moment, as I stop thinking about pretty much anything but the kiss I'm immersed in, that I finally surrender to the truth: I am in love with Charles Xavier, quite possibly have been for a while now…I want him, like I have never wanted anyone before, and not just for a night either, I want him for as long as he'll have me, which I'm really not sure will end up being more than a night in any case.

An instant later my suddenly morose line of thought is interrupted as I'm gasping for breath still into the kiss, I can feel my mind reeling with an emotion I just began to accept, yet has suddenly become so great, it's like it won't fit inside me anymore; it just keeps growing, and growing, more and more in a neverending cycle…

Charles is the first to pull back, though we're both fighting to get our breath back, not even caring that our foreheads are almost touching still. The close contact is soothing, somehow. It's only when my mind begins working again that I begin realizing how…how unnatural that whole 'loop of feeling' truly was.

"What was that?" I ask, voice slightly broken, holding tightly onto his arms, the moment I get enough oxygen to speak. "Charles!"

Suddenly I'm feeling so much, seeing so much, through my eyes, and inside my mind as well; all the sensations, and I'm not fully sure which are my own and which aren't. A dreadful feeling settles in the bottom of my stomach abruptly, and it takes me a few seconds to fully comprehend that it's not my own. Charles…I'm sensing the same things Charles does, but how? Why? What the hell is going on?! The answer comes before I can verbalize the question; thankfully, because right now I'm not sure I would be very nice at it…

"Oh God Erik…I'm so sorry…" He's on his knees in front of me with a gasp.

"What?" I hate the idea of him on his knees, immediately pulling him to my side. "Wha…Don't apologize Charles. I don't even know what you're supposed to be apologizing for!"

*This…* I hear the whisper inside my mind.

An instant later I can feel a touch of my cheek, I could almost swear it's his hand, except for the fact that both of his hands are still on his lap.

I try to demand an answer, but I doubt much more than a word comes out.

*My face…your hands…How are you doing…this? What are you doing exactly? What are you doing to me now Charles?!* I demand mentally, knowing instinctively he will be able to hear me.

*I'm am sorry, my friend…* He whispers back.

*Stop apologizing Charles! Just explain things!* I insist strongly.

*When we were in Cuba, when I was trying to restrain Shaw…he was trying to fight me off, to attack you…attack us all.* He begins to explain eventually.

*He threatened to kill you…*

*I know. I knew you were going to kill him the moment you made up your mind. I…I was actually bracing myself for it.*

*Bracing…Charles, what would have happened if I had killed Shaw with you still there?* That distracts me, and while I dread the answer, I also need to hear it.

*I believe you already know the answer to that question Erik. It's why you did what you did, isn't it? Why you got me out…*

*It…I wasn't even sure why I was doing it. It was just an instinct. I knew it was a bad idea for you to be there.*

*So you pulled me out.* Charles sighs. *But you didn't just pull me out of his mind, you…I guess the best way to put it would be to say you were trying to protect me, so you pulled me to your own mind. And since I didn't resist…I ended up going deeper than expected…*

*Charles, stop fucking around and give me a straight answer!*

He lowers his face and I can feel the dread in the bottom of my stomach grow, however, I ignore it, I need to hear him say it; say the thing I already know, or at least suspect.

*We're linked Erik. I ended up so deep in your consciousness that our minds…no, my mind ended up creating a link to yours…a bridge you could say. It was the only way for me to be there without snapping the connection to my own body, and to be able to return to myself later on.*

*This link, is it permanent?* I ask. *Can we break it somehow?*

I want my privacy, but it's more than that, it's not really that I do not want him in my head, it's that I don't think he should have to be! My head…it's not a nice place to be: my memories, my feelings, he doesn't deserve to have to be in permanent contact with all that. It's not fair to him, not to someone so good! Something I'm sure he will agree with, if the heaviness in the corner of my mind is any indication.

*I…I don't know. I had never created a link like this. I…I suppose it could be broken. Maybe with that helmet or another telepath or…*

The wave of agony that rushes through me is so unexpected, I suddenly feel like I might need to reorganize my ideas. Maybe he is not as averse to this whole: bond-thing as I first thought? Still, doesn't change the fact that he shouldn't have to endure it, it is not fair to him, and if it was only created as a way to preserve his own sanity…it's not like he wanted it either!

"Charles…" I call to him, trying to understand what exactly is going on.

It's hard to even think about having a conversation, with everything that's already moving through our minds: all the thoughts, the feelings, the impressions, running in a constant loop; it makes it next to impossible to tell what belongs to whom…

"I'm sorry…" He gasps out-loud, before continuing in our minds: *I'm so very sorry Erik, please believe me, I did not know what I was doing. If I had I would have never done it…*

That breaks me, in a way nothing else could have ever before, in a way I could have never begin to imagine I could be broken…

*You wouldn't…?* I'm not capable of even thinking a full sentence.

*Of course not, never.* He rushes to assure me.

There's another wave of agony, though this time I have no problem realizing it comes from me. I don't have the strength to even try and hold it back…and it's not like he hasn't noticed already anyway…or like he will care…

My mind goes into a loop of its own, I don't have the slightest idea of what exactly I'm thinking, only that it's my greatest fear come true: if one could call something I didn't even know could be possible, that. But really, how good is it to discover love is true and that I have found it, only to have it slip through my fingers less than an hour later? This is cruelness in many ways superior to anything Shaw might have done to me when I was a child. Only one thing makes me stop, the sudden new line of thought reaching me, coming from Charles' mind.

*And God! He's probably going to kill me for hearing this, for ever reacting to his words, but I cannot just allow him to think he's anything less than the strongest, most amazing, wonderful, brightest man I've ever met!*

*Do…do you mean that?* I cannot help but ask slowly.

My voice so small I cannot help but think of myself, 18 years ago, when I couldn't help but feel so utterly defenseless; it's something I've hated ever since, yet in this moment, with Charles as my only witness, and despite the huge mess we're in right now, I cannot help but think that it's not really that bad. Not if it's him…

And then…it's like a rush. There are no actual words, and yet a whole story is told: a life-story: Charles's life-story. I see through his eyes the happiness of early childhood, the deep grief of losing a loving father while still so young…the beginnings of his telepathy, the heart-breaking pain when discovering through it how little his mother actually cared for him…Raven, sweet Raven, who I had believed Charles always held back, until I could actually sense how much he just wanted to keep her safe, how much he feared losing her…A stepfather I would want to kill even more than I ever did Shaw, if he weren't dead already. A stepbrother I will be riding this world of if he ever turns up alive and dares so much as look at Charles wrong…A run for England, for a life far away from the memories, the neglect, the pain…A funeral with lack of any grief whatsoever, and somehow that little detail hurts more than the fact that I could never give one to my own mother…

I had always known Charles to be a flirt, it was hard not to with the way he was always looking at and talking to practically every single female who came across. For the longest time I'd thought it was just something stupid, until I saw it through his eyes, until I felt it as if I were there myself. The loudness inside my mind, of so many other minds that just didn't seem to be able to keep quiet! It wasn't as simple as staying out of them either, because apparently sometimes people want so much to be heard that they begin unconsciously projecting their own thoughts, even those who aren't mutants. Some days it's just a buzz in the background, and others it's so loud it's hard to know which thoughts actually belong to Charles, and which don't. It goes on until he's found the two solutions for it: alcohol and sex. The alcohol buzzes the mind, but at the same time it makes harder to control the telepathy; besides which, a hangover allows for nearly no control at all, which makes the morning-after all the worse, even after trying any and all 'hangover cures' ever discovered. Sex, on the other hand; it allows him to focus on just one person for a while and then, for an instant, there's nothing but perfect silence…

It's a hard way to exist, but it seems to be the only one he knows…

Then Oxford, his thesis presentation, yet another bar-party and…Moira. The way she asked for help, it's quite obvious she'd no idea she was asking a mutant about his own kind, she just thought him someone who knew about the topic. Charles didn't make any offers until he'd read the situation from Moira's own mind, didn't reveal anything until at Langley, while being in absolute control of the situation (or as much as he could be); and through it all, he only did it because he wanted so much to find others like him and Raven, to find family…

The memory of Miami hits me harder than any other. It's like I'm living it again, like I have so many times in my dreams (sleeping or awake) since it happened. Only I'm now seeing it from the other side. I can feel Charles staggering when he first senses my mind, out in the ocean, the fact that he so instantly rushes after that signal, never stopping to think about the risks such a thing might mean to his health, either from Riptide, or from me (after all, as far as he knew, I might have been hostile as well). He's screaming for someone to help me, yet everyone in the ship seems to be completely frozen by my display of power with the anchor; so he takes it upon himself to help. For a second, as he comes in contact with the water there's a rush of memory, of a deeply ingrained fear: drowning. The last time he went into the ocean he nearly drowned (something else to hate the Markos for), he had refused to set foot into the ocean ever since…and he'd just jumped off a boat, into the black ocean, for a complete stranger…for me!

He's so desperate…he doesn't know me, yet does not want me to die, he's willing to risk everything, his own fear, his own life, for someone after just touching my mind once. It goes so much against everything I've known, everything I've believed in my whole life…it's in that moment that I realize what a precious treasure Charles truly is, such a treasure…

There's the taste of something metallic, like a mix of iron and some other much more precious metal, it's the feeling Charles identifies me by, like the…taste of my mind. Only with that come other sensations, the thoughts that went through his mind the first time he touched mine, and they're enough to send me reeling: a touch of the sky, darkness enveloping a core of light…I come to the realization that Charles understands a lot more about human nature and the darkness of oneself than I ever gave him credit for; yet he also understands more of the good, my own and that of others, than I thought there could be…

This sense he has, that I can see so clearly in his person, his attraction for me, his disregard for propriety, morals or even the law as he acknowledges that attraction, even as he chooses not to act on it; it reminds of my own hesitance as I finally began admitting my own feelings to myself; and I cannot help but wonder how things would have been if both of us had been more open to the possibilities…

His absolute delight at my presence, at my mere existence…even without the romantic and slightly lust-filled tint his thoughts get, it's more feeling than I've known from anyone except my own mother. The fact that someone can feel so much for me staggers me so completely…

Then there's his fear at my leaving, his nervousness while he tries to convince me to stay, and his absolute self-loath at the mere thought of using his powers to force me to do so. I understand for the first time how terrible it was for me to think he would ever use his powers to force himself on someone, and I cannot help but feel thankful that I had the strength to trust him, back on that beach, back when I didn't trust even myself, that I chose to keep that helmet away from my head.

What follows then is a sense of need so strong, so keen…it baffles me that anyone can need me so much, yet it's the same measure I have begun to accept I need him…

He calls me his anchor inside his mind, and it's almost funny, how it reminds me of Miami and our first meeting. How I cannot help but think of him as my anchor, keeping me fixed on one place, when I'm so used to drifting, to moving around with no specific plan beyond hunting Nazis and taking my vengeance on Shaw.

Memories of Cerebro, of the thrill of finding just how many mutants, how many potential family members there are out there, some as lost as we were…as we still are in many ways. A road-trip to find them, and a sense of freedom that carries with it, a freedom never felt before, not in the CIA, or in Oxford…not even with Raven…

The failure that is Russia, the horror when returning to the ruins of the CIA compound, the relief at seeing Raven and most of our own alive, the grief at the loss of Darwin…and once again a sense of failure, because of the one who left by her own choice…

Westchester: so deeply connected with feelings of sadness, grief, neglect, a huge desire to be anywhere but there…paired with a hope for a future that might override the past… Flashes of a week that feels like a lifetime; of feelings that would have been enough for forever…if only Shaw and the American and Soviet governments hadn't ruined it by threatening to go to war over stupid reasons (and Shaw's manipulations…)

Charles realization that I'm still dead-set on my revenge, after my  _Peace was never an option_  line, and his despair, so huge…greater than the greatest loss he'd suffered to that point: that of his father. He knows he will lose me, and he cannot stop it from happening.

Dizziness, confusion, insanity, despair…so much darkness taking over the brief but bright flash of light that came when he could sense my elation at being able to lift the submarine. He fears Shaw killing me, he fears killing Shaw, he feels he would rather die…and that thought brings an abrupt surge of panic and despair I can hardly believe is my own except for the fact that the mere thought of Charles being gone terrifies me more than I care to admit even to myself!

Then…the marvel, the amazement…the joy so great, so absolute, when I make my choice not to kill Shaw in anger…when I choose Charles over my revenge…and I have no idea why I didn't think of it like that before. It's exactly what I did, I chose him over my hate, and my revenge… and I don't even want to think what would have happened if I hadn't.

Everything else from Cuba is a blur after that. His choice to trust me…it seems to have been there all along, even when it takes him a while to voice it; even when I now can feel the terror in the corner of his minds, he knows if I choose to truly destroy all those ships, kill all those people, he won't survive it, he won't survive the shock of so many deaths. And Mein Gott! If I had only known all that before…

Except, a part of me knew, it had to. It's how I ended up with him inside my head, how my instincts pushed me to pulling him out of Shaw and inside my own mind a fraction of a second before I drove that coin through his black heart…

The memory of our recent kiss; so much feeling: want, trust, longing…love. Our feelings, his and mine, combining perfectly, seamlessly, as if that's how they're meant to be, how they've been meant to be all along…and maybe that's the truth…that's perfection.

_Erik…I swear I love you more than my own life…and I always will._

It takes me a whole second to force my body to start over after the shock of those words being said, so sincerely, so directly to me, freezes me over. A part of me knew already, how could I not when it was in the texture, the tint, the taste of every single memory Charles showed me that had the two of us? And still, I couldn't believe it was real, not until the actual words are said. Then it is I who does not have the words to express myself, but I cannot just sit here and stare at him like an idiot! So I do like I was usually do, I react, I let my actions speak for me…I take Charles and kiss him for all I am.

*…as Erik Lehnsherr is by my side, we can do anything…the world is ours.* I hear like a whisper in the back of my mind.

*You have me Charles…* I whisper back, not quite sure he meant me to hear, or that he's listening anymore, still, I say. *Just like I have you…always.*

From then on it's less words and thoughts and more sensations and impressions. I let the mix of fire, passion, lust, want, need…and love draw us together and carry us.

I'm not quite sure when or how clothes are shed, I only know the shock akin to electricity and heat the likes of a living flame that engulf my body as we finally touch each other flesh on flesh; and I can feel through our bond a similar response from his side. And similar feelings only serve to heighten the whole experience.

We spend what might be a minute or an eternity doing nothing but kissing, caressing, downright worshiping each other's bodies. Charles takes such care kissing each and every mark on my body, from the number tattooed on my forearm to the knife, bullet and other various scars caused by Shaw's experiments and nearly two decades spent hunting down Nazis. There's so much love in his every gesture, like he's trying to take away the pain and bad memories in each and every one of those marks, replacing them with images and feelings of his love, his light…

I reciprocate as much as I can, for while they may not be visible, I know Charles has his own scars, born of rejection and neglect. I promise myself, possibly not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, that I will make sure Charles never wants for anything emotionally ever again, if it takes me the rest of my life (and that's one prospect I certainly delight in…being with Charles the rest of my life…)

A moment comes, as I realize that our passion needs an actual outlet, I also know we never agreed on how exactly we would do it. And then…

*I want you…* What comes from Charles are more impressions and very strong feelings than actual words, but I can understand the meaning. *You…in me…*

That surprises me. Charles was so focused on being completely honest when he bared his mind, his soul to me, he didn't bother hiding anything about his sex-life (it's how I know he never cared about any of his bed-partners, while he actually cares, and more, about me). I also know the two times he's been with men (even if he was beyond drunk) he was the one in control. Charles Xavier is always one to be in control.

*Do not want control.* He argues quietly in my head. *Just never had someone I could trust, with all that I am, before…*

And if nothing before had been capable of humbling me, that certainly would have. I knew he trusted me, of course I did, but I would have never expected this kind of trust. It's one thing to put the lives of others in my hands, leaving me to make my own choices; but to put himself, body, mind and soul under my absolute control, something he's never allowed before. I just have no words to express what this kind of trust means to me.

*No talk…* He gasps, arching beneath my fingers. *I know…*

I decide to follow his advice, it's not like I am going to be finding any words to express myself any time soon…and we still have a night to enjoy. So with that I press on him, feeling his body arch beneath me as he moans loudly, inside and outside our heads. The pleasure is escalating rapidly and we have just begun.

And when the moment comes and everything comes to a climax I have him to hold onto, to anchor myself to the real world even as I let go, drowning myself in pleasure; and I can feel him doing the same with me. We're each other's anchors, and everything's right with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the first chapter in Erik's point of view. We still have two more to go through before we go back to Charles's...and whatever else I may think of writing.
> 
> I need to put a warning here. Since, like I just mentioned, I haven't actually finished Amity, I'm going to have to slow the updates. Sorry for that. Truth is I lost my inspiration for X-Men for a while there, but now I'm back and I shall be finishing Amity, maybe even see what else I can do for the "Hope and Salvation" series. In any case, from now on updates will be coming every other week, instead of every week. The other weeks I will be posting another fic (the one I was working on when I was absent from X-Men), it's called "Nightingale" it's a Loki-centric fic that begins years prior to Thor and ends about a year after Avengers, ignores completely anything related to the upcoming Thor 2 movie. If you're a fan of Thor, the Avengers, Loki, or all of those, hope to see you there.
> 
> Now, back to this fic. Update will be coming in two weeks. Next chapter: We hear more from Erik, how does the 'morning after' look like from his point of view? And also some more reactions from the inhabitants of the mansion (particularly the newest ones) to his relationship with Charles. And something about his new-found friendship-of-sorts with Moira!
> 
> See ya around people!


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reactions from the household to Charles's and Erik's relationship, more sexiness and the beginning in the formation of a family...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reason for the rating: swearing. Particularly liberal use of the F-word.

**Chapter 4. Acceptance (Erik)**

After a small scare in the morning (and I still do not understand how anyone can possibly forget themselves, where they are and with who…) and a new round of very good, very satisfying sex, we finally showered (separately because Charles insisted if we were together we would end up wanting to do things again and he might not be able to take it…as if I would ever do anything to hurt him in any way…).

Small mercy, none of the children are up yet, which allows us to have our morning drinks (me, coffee, Charles, tea), in quiet peace. We do not say a word, we do not need to, the bond in our minds allows images and feelings to cross over and over, and right now that's more than enough to feel completely comfortable.

After a while we're finished and Charles decides we should make some breakfast for the others. Considering everything they went through yesterday, and not only that: our children won! That brings such pride to me, I might never find it in myself to tell them, but still I feel it, and Charles knows. The pride to know I was, if just in a small part, responsible for them, for their training that allowed them to gain victory even when they were little more than children, while most of their opponents were experienced and seasoned warriors…

So I set to making French toast while Charles works on scrambled eggs and fried bacon. We also set out the juice for the young ones and fresh fruits Moira favors. It's the first time I've prepared breakfast for someone other than myself, but when Charles asked me to help I couldn't refuse; and once we get to work, I can feel the joy he finds in the small, simple actions, in the way we move around each other, and I cannot help but share it. We're just setting the food on the small kitchen table (because I refuse to use the big, dreary, stuffy dinning room when we have no need for it). I cannot help but smirk as I steal a bite from the last piece of bacon Charles serves and when he pouts at me, (lips full and red and way too sexy for his own good) I place a bit of French toast on his mouth, on an attempt to hold back. Of course it ends up having the exactly opposite effect when Charles finishes the bite and then proceeds to run his tongue over his lips in a motion that, more than any thought I might or might not be picking up on, shows he's doing it entirely on purpose. I have just decided to throw caution to the wind and am about to just pull Charles to me and kiss him when the way he suddenly freezes in place reveals, even before his thoughts do, that something's wrong. I see it then, from the corner of my eye, Moira, and the rest of the children, standing at the kitchen door, watching us in shocked silence.

*Seems the kids are up.* I hear Charles inside our link, and I know he's trying to downplay his nervousness, even while I still feel it.

I don't say a word, I cannot, still, my instincts are faster than even my thoughts. I feel so idiotic, how could I have forgotten myself? I mean, it's one thing to know I'm at ease with Charles, that's something I've been feeling since that night in Miami (regardless of how long it took me to accept it and stop running from it…and a coward I am not!). But to forget the fact that this house is also full of young mutants who will have grown with the idea of two men together as some kind of depravity; that and a government Agent who isn't likely to forget just how illegal Charles and I being in a relationship is. Are we then to evade damnation being mutants and end up being condemned because of being gay?!

In a fraction of a second I'm already making plans. I know Charles won't want to erase their minds, and while I could possibly leave before any condemnation is made, before the authorities are brought in on this…I just cannot leave Charles to deal with it. It's not fair to him. I can feel Charles in the corner of my mind, something tells me he hasn't become aware of my line of thought just yet, showing just how worried he himself is about everything.

Then, as I'm still trying to find something to do, anything to save Charles (for he is infinitely more important than myself and always will be), I suddenly feel someone taking the pot of coffee from the lose hold I have on it (I was about to pour myself a second cup before Charles provoked me so…). I only half-see Raven pouring a cup for herself, adding some cream and sugar before finally going to her seat on the table.

"Thanks for the coffee," She comments as she seats. "And it looks like you made breakfast too!"

"Raven…" I hear Charles quietly, and his mind is blank, he has no idea what else to say.

"What?" She asks, eyebrow furrowed.

Charles minds is firing all kinds of question, one after the other in quick succession; and yet all so weak I'm quite sure I'm only picking up on it all because of how strong the bond is.

After what feels like forever I turn to look at Raven, right as she decides to speak her piece about what she just witnessed. I'm braced for the worst, ready to threat, take Charles and run, fight, whatever is necessary…and when the words finally reach my ears all I can do is stand there, in shocked silence, no knowing what to say, what to think…instead I just listen.

"Well…cannot say I didn't see it coming." She admits. "Though I did think it would take you longer…considering how tight Erik acts most of the time, and how clueless I know you to be…"

"Raven!" Charles exclaims, flushing brightly.

"What?" She replies with a chuckle. "I am your sister. I always knew of your sex-capades, just like I always knew those girls were nothing to you…" her tone goes from joking to serious. "I also noticed the way you looked at Erik, have from that very night in Miami…you were just a bit slow on the uptake yourself. Both of you…"

"You're not…di…well…"

He doesn't say it out-loud, but I can hear the word in our minds:  _disgusted_. It makes me flinch inside, even as I cannot help but think exactly the same.

"Why should it affect me who you've decided to love?" She shrugs. "Love is love in the end, right? As long as you're happy, as both of you're happy. You give us something to aspire to…" She shrugs again before raising her eyes over the rim of her cup and adding. "Just, please, if you're going to get all lovey dovey, do not do so in front of us, please…I can only take so much sweetness with my breakfast…"

I hear Moira laugh before going for her own cup of coffee, and if it weren't because I have already accepted that that woman is anything but normal I might be surprised on the fact that someone who's supposed to uphold the law seems to find something funny about the fact that two men are together, and isn't doing anything against us. Instead she just takes her coffee and sits beside Raven, letting out a badly hidden giggle after taking one more look, or two, at Charles and I (really, is the fact that Charles is open-mouthed in shock, and probably my eyes show some of the same emotion, really that funny?)

Nearly a full minute pass, before Raven abruptly spins around in her seat, turning to face the boys who are still standing at the kitchen doors, apparently having no idea what to do with themselves.

"What, you have a problem with my brother loving Erik?" She asks half defensively.

The tone in her voice, I wonder if she's saying that only in defense of her brother, or maybe mine too. I remember the night I found her on my bed (which I can hardly believe was just the one before last), when I convinced her to be herself, when I kissed her…

_The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds, simple and chaste, then she pulled back, right when I was about to do the same._

" _Raven…" I begin, wondering how I can send her away without undoing all the good I've been trying to do regarding her, her appearance._

" _It's okay Erik." She assures me with a smile. "I know I'm not your type."_

_With that she slips out of my bed, taking hold of her robe, yet not putting it on. For a few seconds I can only wonder what is going on, how we went from her seemingly trying to seduce me to just moving away as if it were nothing._

" _Raven…" I call as I walk around the bed to stand beside her. "I…"_

" _It's alright, really." She assures me, a strange glint in her amber eyes. "I knew all along it was a long shot…wasn't completely sure…still, thank you." She looks down at herself. "Thank you for…for this. You are the first person to convince me I can look like this and still be considered beautiful. Some might think it's just silliness on my part but…"_

" _It's not." I assure her. "You are beautiful Raven, as yourself. You need not be anyone else. Nature made you this way, you shouldn't have to hide."_

_I'm not sure what moves me, but I place what I hope is a brotherly kiss on her brow. She smiles at me before placing a similar kiss on my cheek._

" _Maybe one day I won't have to." She agrees. "In any case, thanks to you, right now I finally believe I can be like this. Accept myself as I am."_

_With that she moves for the door, she's almost out when she suddenly looks over her shoulder, back at me._

" _Charles really is lucky to have you…" She whispers with a smile._

_With that said she leaves, and I can only wonder if I imagined the double entendre in her words._

I hear Charles's breath catch as his eyes widen a bit more and I know he's seen that memory as I just did, and he's feeling the very same thing I do right now. Raven wasn't lying when she said she knew it was coming, and that she'd accepted it already. There, in that memory, is the greatest proof that Raven accepts us, as individuals, but more importantly right now, as a couple. I feel a warmth in my heart I'm not sure if it's mine or Charles, but I embrace the feeling nonetheless; if this is what it feels like to have a family, it is something I'm absolutely willing to enjoy…

I return to reality as I watch the boys shrug in unison before finally crossing the doorway into the kitchen, taking their seats. I'm sure it's no accident that the place between Charles (who's on Raven's free side) is free; but I do no comment on it either, simply sitting and serving myself some breakfast after, finally, pouring my second cup of coffee.

I can hear Charles and Raven talking mostly in whispers before Moira adds in her two cents, her voice carrying a bit more than the siblings', enough for me to catch fully.

"Love is love, no matter between whom." She announces, before taking a bite of her French toast, which is followed by a small moan. "God, this is so great! Erik, I never imagined you could be this good in the kitchen! I might just have to drop by every so often if this is what you usually make for breakfast."

I cannot help the string of curses and other mutterings that leave my lips at that, Moira may somehow have managed the miracle of making me see her as a respectable acquaintance, the closest I'm likely to ever get to befriending a human…there's still no way I'm becoming her, or anyone else's cook (except maybe Charles's)!

**xXx**

Angel, Emma, Janos and Azazel appear in the kitchen sometime before Moira and the children are finished. They stand at the door, somewhat hesitant until Charles (without even turning to look at them) raises his hand and motions for them to enter, commenting on how there's enough food for everyone. The children tense for all of a handful of seconds before eventually shrugging and relaxing again, apparently deciding that if Charles has accepted them they might as well do the same and just deal with it.

Emma is the first to turn to look at Charles and I before her face shows a mix of a smirk and a giggle (something I would have never imagined from Emma). I furrow my brow, I really don't like the idea of her in my mind, but among all I got from Charles last night I know now it would hurt him, deeply, if I were to try and use Shaw's helmet.

"Oh, calm down sugar, I'm not actually reading your mind." Emma states boldly. "Honestly, I cannot right now. However, the very reason I cannot read you is telling enough."

I wonder if she means the bond, if it somehow shields me from her, I also wonder if she knows about the bond or just thinks Charles has chosen to shield me for whatever the reason.

"I'm not a telepath and I can see the writing in the wall." Angel comments with a snort. "I could see it in Vegas! Lord, all the tension in that room…"

Charles splutters and I get the vague image of us in that very narrow bed, on the club where Angel used to strip…is that me in drag?!

I turn to look at him, mouth open, I have no idea what I might say, but still. Before I even say a word I hear Charles apologetic litany in my head.

*I'm sorry, I'm sorry, love, really.* He whispers in a rush. *We talked about showing her ours… it was the first thing I could think of.*

*So much you can do with your mind, and the first you could think of was me in drag?!* I do not whine, I do not… (well, maybe, a little, but only in our minds).

*Well, I have to admit the image was…interesting…* He admits, flushing.

*Interesting, huh?* I cannot help the sudden predatory tint to my thoughts. *I think even more interesting would be you, in a dress…*

I can feel the heat inside his mind change from that of embarrassment to that of arousal, it makes me smirk.

"Please, no sex in the kitchen!" Emma calls with a smirk.

"We were not…" Charles calls out immediately, scandalized.

The children are looking at us with a mix of shock and horror; except for Raven who's giggling like mad and Moira who just sighs and goes back to her own coffee, Angel seems confused while Azazel and Janos appear to prefer to stay out of it.

"He's not." Raven points out when the situation does not change after a few seconds. "Trust me, I would know…"

"Raven!" Charles's cry is slightly shrill, horrified by what his sister's implying.

The young woman in question just rolls her eyes.

"No, you're not." Emma agrees. "But it's just so easy to get a rise out of you, and funny too!" she smirks. "If anything I know now I'll be sufficiently entertained here."

Charles just lets out a suffering sigh, burying his burning face in his hands. I can just pat his back, while I do not enjoy being put in the spotlight like that, there is something to be said to the effect abruptly changing emotions can have in someone…especially when half of them are, in one way or another, connected to arousal. Very interesting indeed…

**xXx**

After being caught kissing in the kitchen by Sean and Raven after we've cleared the place from breakfast and being somewhat compared to parents (which, considering how Charles and I have been calling them our children, even if mostly just in our minds, isn't much of a surprise, and not something I'm inclined to disagree with any time soon) I manage to pull Charles back upstairs, this time to his bedroom, where we pretty much sequester ourselves for most of the day.

When I go out of the room late in the evening to find us some dinner (and it isn't that much of an exaggeration when breakfast was more lunch, if only considering the time when we ate). I am in the kitchen, looking for something quick and easy to make for both of us when, as I turn to search through a different pantry, I find myself face to face with a thin-camisole-wearing Raven (and she certainly has begun taking liberties with herself, staying blue all the time, and just putting on enough clothes for Charles not to be scandalized by her nudity). I consider just stepping around her, except she's looking straight at me in a way that shows that she wants to talk, she probably has even waiting for me, and I am not going to be able to escape this, not even if I try, so I decide to just give up.

"What do you want Raven?" I ask, laying against the counter, giving her all my attention.

She seems to notice this, taking a stance, her feet shoulder width apart, standing as straight and tall as her natural form allows, hands on her hips, amber eyes straight on me.

"Well, seeing as you and Charles have decided not to fuck around anymore…choosing instead to just fuck each other…" She begins.

"Raven!" I cry, I'm not a puritan like Charles, but still!

She just chuckles at me.

"So, is this the, 'you hurt my brother I kill you' talk?" I ask eventually.

"No, this is the 'You hurt my brother and I will hurt you enough you will wish to be dead, before I hand you over to the others who will do the same until one eventually kills you', talk." She replies with complete seriousness. "I may be younger than both you and Charles, but I'm no weakling. If it comes down to it, I will fight. And the others will defend Charles as well."

"I have no doubt of your capabilities Raven, or of anyone else's." I assure her, deciding to take things as seriously as she's making them. "I hope you know that Charles can protect himself, though, at least most of the time."

"Yes, and like you just pointed out, most of the time." She replies. "We will be there when either he can't, or won't."

I nod, I actually like knowing that, knowing that there are others that will help protect Charles if, for whatever the reason, I can't.

"First, let me point out that your threat is unnecessary." I assure her. "But, if that situation were ever to change…you most likely won't need to." My voice is low as I add, from the depths of the heart I until recently didn't believe I had. "If I ever hurt Charles intentionally…I won't want to live afterwards, and you most likely won't have to do a thing."

She nods, I know she can see what I am implying, and she agrees at least with the principle of it. I just hope we never have to find out how true my words might be.

"You are good for him, you know?" He tone changes abruptly, turning softer, more caring.

"I do not know if I can believe that." I reply grimly.

Saying such things, it means revealing a bit too much of me, certainly more than I'm comfortable with…and yet she's being so honest with me, I cannot help but do the same.

"My past…" I begin, then shake my head slightly. "There's so much I've said, done, been…so much I still am. At times I'm convinced I can do nothing but ruin your brother Raven. There's just too much darkness in me to do otherwise and yet…I don't know if I can let go at this point."

"Do not!" Raven practically ordered me. "I do not know what darkness you may believe you have in you Erik, but you cannot let go of Charles. He needs you!"

"I very much doubt he could ever need me more than I need him. But it's irrelevant because I honestly don't think I can let him go…"

"He does need you. Charles is so…good, and innocent and naïve at times, he needs someone to balance him out. And you do that…but it's not just that. You…you look after him, you protect him. In ways we cannot do. I know he sees us as children, all of us, even when I'm his sister, when I'm practically the same age he is, he still looks after all of us as if we were so much younger; and not just that, as if we were his…your children. He's so busy trying to look after everyone, he needs someone to look after him…he needs You to look after him."

"I do…or I try to anyway."

"I know. You are good for him Erik, regardless whatever you may think. I honestly do not know what would become of Charles if he were to lose you…"

I do not want to think about that, because as much as a part of me rejoices in Charles loving me so much he could not live without me, another fears what might truly become of him if anything were to happen to me. Because, honestly, and even with Charles's amazing optimism whispering in the back of my mind, I still believe a war is coming and 'Charles's life before me'…I will always protect him, even if it means my life.

"He's also good for you." Raven adds unexpectedly. "Charles, I mean."

As I needed the clarification, at least not on that part I don't, however.

"What do you mean?" That I do want clarified.

"Charles makes you…softer, somehow." Seeing something in my face she rushes to add. "Not in a bad way! Or as some kind of weakness. It's more like…he helps you heal, helps you live. When I met you back in Miami you were all coldness and hard edges and now…you're better, stronger yet at the same time softer. I like it…we all do. I agree with Sean, you're like our parents now and… it feels right."

Before I'm fully sure what's going on she's pressing against me, crying slightly into my chest, arms tight around me as she whispers in a slight sob:

"I do not know what we would do without you either…"

She says we, she's not talking just about her, she's talking about all the children. And I like that! Mein Gott! I like being wanted, being needed by them! My whole life, I never considered the idea of having a family, not after I lost the one I was born into in a dark camp in Poland. For nearly two decades my life has been about nothing but hunting down Shaw, killing whoever got in my way. And then I met this dorky, funny, sexy young man in the bottom of a dark ocean off the coast of Florida when he nearly got himself killed trying to save me. And it wasn't just him, after him came his sister, and then a bunch of other young ones, all looking up to Charles and I, wanting to be taught, protected and cared for by us…and everything changed. I had a family before I ever thought to wonder if I even wanted one! And now I cannot imagine being without it, without them…Raven, Hank, Alex, Sean, Angel, they're all mine, my children, just like Charles is mine in a defiantly different manner, he's my (friend, partner, lover, equal…) everything.

As I'm still trying to come to terms with everything in my own mind Raven finally gets her composure back and steps away from me. Only half knowing what I'm doing I move to kiss her brow, like I did a certain night (which feels longer ago than it actually was). It puts a smile on her face as she ducks her head in what seems like a mix of embarrassment and enjoyment, and how I even think that, I do not know.

"I'm gonna go now, Angel is waiting for me." She explains unnecessarily as she moves away from me. "We're planning on going shopping tomorrow."

I nod, not paying much attention to her anymore, still half-immersed in my self-discovery.

"There are two plates of dinner in the oven, you just have to reheat them." She points out before leaving the kitchen. "We ordered some Italian a couple of hours ago."

"Thank you." I nod as I move to do as she says.

"Oh, and Erik…" She calls back. "Good night, and tell my brother the same please."

"Good night Raven." I nod in return.

It feels strange, going from a sister threatening her brother's boyfriend with harm if said brother ever ends up hurt…to declaring ourselves as family. But that's exactly what we are, certainly not a normal family in any sense of the word but…we are mutants, we were never meant to be normal, and that's perfectly alright with all of us.

**xXx**

Tonight every thought, every sensation is sharper, keener, stronger, somehow. It's like the events of the day have changed something, something small, sublime, that cannot be seen physically but can be sensed, deep inside our cores, our minds and souls when we connect in bodies and minds like we do after finishing our dinner.

In the aftermath of our passion we lay together on the bed, we are in Charles's bedroom this time. It's mostly the same as the one I spent the last week in, though the bed is bigger, which suits us just fine considering we're planning on sharing it…for as long as Charles will have me.

*Forever…* He whispers in my mind. *We'll always be together…we're family…*

I allow myself a moment of satisfaction, knowing I left him like that, so sated, yet at the same time so exhausted (and maybe even a tad hoarse) that he cannot find it in himself to talk out-loud, at least not right now.

*I can feel your satisfaction Erik…* He reminds me with a small mental-chuckle. *I think seeing and feeling me like this does your ego no good…*

*Oh…like you're not feeling the exact same thing.* I deadpan with a slight roll of my eyes.

The wave of satisfaction mixed with amusement is enough response to that.

It takes a few minutes, but once we find it in ourselves to move I lay down on my back comfortably, helping Charles curl against my side, his head half-on-my-shoulder half-on-my-chest, breath on my chest and our legs slightly entwined. We're still quite tired, but it's a good kind of tired, definitely better than we were last night, after the disaster that was Cuba…and I really don't want to think right now, again, just how much of a disaster Cuba was and how much worse it would have been if Charles wasn't so good with words…

*It would have meant nothing if you hadn't trusted me.* He mutters psychically as he burros his face slightly into my chest. *But you did, and that made all the difference.*

*How could I not trust you Charles, after everything you had done, everything you were still doing, were willing to do, for me?* I ask in return.

The memory of him, holding Shaw immobile, knowing as I know now what it would have cost him if I had gone through with my original plan and driven the coin through the bastard's head. It's enough to make me feel slightly nauseous.

*It's alright Erik.* He whispers softly. *Even if you had done it…I knew what I was getting into from the very beginning. I would rather have taken the pain than have Shaw hurt you.* he sighs out-loud, before continuing mentally. *I was far more afraid of you putting that helmet on, the void it creates…it feels like death in my mind…*

The helmet, the very same one that is locked inside a safe in Charles's study. He does not like it, and I already decided not to use it, but we both knew even in the midst of all that chaos in the beach that we couldn't just leave it behind. So we brought it with us, for our own safety. It is also Charles's hope that between us and maybe McCoy we might be able to understand how it works, if it is the metal, or something else in it that works as a psychic shield. Charles's interest is mostly scientific, I know; me…I care more about finding a way to counter it. It would not do to have someone attack us while having those helmets, it would not do at all.

*Arrg!* Charles groans. *You're thinking too loud. And about too dark and morose things, especially considering where we are and what we just did! This time is to be for us, not for war and fear and complications we have no guarantee will ever happen.*

*We should always be prepared for anything* I point out, after the life I've lived…I cannot not be prepared. *But I agree, the bed is not the place for such arguments. What else shall we talk about right now then? What topic of conversation is worth it?*

*As far as I'm concerned the only ones worth anything right now are the two of us…and maybe the children.*

I cannot help but chuckle, Charles really doesn't seem to want to think about much of anything right now…he's either still very tired or focused on us.

*A bit of both.* He answers my not-quite-asked question.

*Well, the children do deserve some merit, they've all been great.* I remind him.

*Moira too.* Charles add.

I reluctantly nod, even if just in our minds. The strange friendship-of-sorts Moira and I seem to have right now is something I don't want to think too hard about, the whole thing still being a bit too strange for words.

*You just don't want to admit you don't find all humans inferior.* Charles states with a smirk.

*I'm not all sure she's human, to be honest.* I deadpan.

*Oh she is very much human, at least as far as either she, or I know.* He sighs. *That doesn't change the fact that she's perhaps one of the most special people I've met my whole life…*

*Really, and who else gets to be in that rather…exclusive list?*

*You and Raven, of course…and perhaps the kids, I'm still not so sure about them.*

He's smirking and I know it, and I know he knows. We're both still riding a high, one that goes beyond the satisfying orgasms we experienced recently; one that is in no way sexual and in every way mental and emotional.

**xXx**

The next few days pass in pretty much the same manner. Sean is recovering from his broken arm. Angel's wing is mending slowly but surely, she says it will never be fully the same, not with the scars that remain, but she also understands that they are consequences of her own bad choices and accepts that it could have been much worse. Hank is finally beginning to accept himself, blue fur and all, Raven keeps trying to help him, though Charles says it's only causing arguments between them; apparently those two fought about something the night before Cuba, something connected to the reason why Hank is blue, though Charles hasn't been big on the details and I haven't really asked either. Alex, Janos and Azazel are getting along surprisingly well, especially considering they were pretty much trying to kill each other less than a week ago; still, every time we see them together Charles has that infuriatingly adorable smile on his face, his mind screaming about how we all should follow their example…right. Moira…is another matter entirely, one I honestly have no idea what to think of.

Charles and I talked about Cuba several times in the last few days, it did well, putting all the cards on the table, explain what we were going through mentally and emotionally when it all came so close to going to hell. Charles may be a telepath, but in the days since we've been bonded I've begun to understand he isn't all-knowing, telepathy isn't as simple as I believed, as so many still believe; and while he certainly is as powerful as I've always suspected, maybe even more so, the limits he imposes himself…they make everything harder.

Still, it's not only that, there's also Moira, Moira and her secrets. Charles has told me about the flashes he saw in her mind, he hasn't told me anything, I know that, and he hasn't showed me anything at all, which in itself is bad enough. Then, as if Cuba weren't enough, there's also these last few days to consider, she's been in and out of the manor every day, practically all day (with the exception of the first one, which we all took off to rest from the battle the day before). In any case, she better explain what's going on soon or…

Any and all thought about Moira is dispersed as suddenly my mind is inundated with images of Charles…naked Charles…in our bed. Right…whatever's going on with Moira can wait for tomorrow, right now I have a very sexy lover waiting for me…anything else can wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this second chapter from Erik's point of view. There was one other thing that was supposed to go here, but the chapter was getting too long, so I rounded this one up and then wrote a third chapter in Erik's point of view. 
> 
> To be honest people I'm running out of ideas of things to write in this fic. I have about enough for two or maybe three more chapters (besides the one that's coming in two weeks, which is written already). So, I'm open to suggestions: either you give me more idea to write, I leave this fic open to continue when the muse strikes, or I round it up and finish it in two or three more chapters. 
> 
> That also brings me to the rest of the series as a whole. Since I cannot make up my mind, I decided to listen to opinions: I can either write a third fic summarizing what happened in the years following Hope and Amity, going as far as the original movies (which will be nothing like the first time around). Or, I can leave the series open and pretty much hanging while I get working on a number of stories that will span those same forty years between First Class and what was X-Men 1 (I have some basic ideas for those stories already, but not too much inspiration to write them right now, which is why I'm giving you the other option. If we go this route, the stories won't be coming for a while yet). So, tell me what you think! 
> 
> Finally, for the next chapter. Erik has dealt with the matter of his own trust, for the most part at least, placing all his trust in Charles, even when he doesn't trust himself...but what about Charles? How much does he trust everyone around him, and especially himself? Can a telepath of Charles's power have such a thing as trust? It might take a Breakdown to find out.


	5. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was to be expected that they all (or almost all) would have a breakdown at some point. What Erik wasn't expecting was just how Charles's would go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry I'm late! But I was having some trouble yesterday. But now I'm here. And here's your chapter! Hope you'll like it, it's one of my favorite ones in this fic.

**Chapter 5. Breakdown (Erik)**

I always knew Charles would be having a breakdown at some point, it was impossible for him not to. In fact, it was impossible for anyone not to. Ever since that day in that accursed Caribbean beach, which had scarred us in more ways than one; it was just a matter of time.

The children had been the first of course, and Charles and I were there for them. Surprisingly enough, Azazel and Janos too were great help with them, sharing their own experiences when they'd first had to fight (in Azazel's case, long before he met Shaw). It helped the children cope with what had happened, not just their fights, but the fact that the humans had turned against us even after what we did for them. The fear, the sadness, knowing that the government they had all been lead to believe they were serving had betrayed them. It also helped bind our group tighter in a way; we were no longer two groups pulled together by chance, and convenience, we'd begun to turn into an actual team, maybe even a family…or the closest thing to it most of us had any hope of ever having.

Moira…she too was present in these sessions, or at least most of them, most of the time she stayed silent, saying not a word as the children ranted against those who had fired missiles upon them after having just stopped a nuclear war! Only once did she offer any words on the matter:

"Fear makes everyone irrational, humans and mutants alike." She had said softly, sadly. "I'm not saying this as any kind of justification or excuse. I too was in that beach, those missiles would have killed me as well…and even if I hadn't been, we're all on the same side, that shouldn't have happened." She sighed and shook her head. "The point is, it happened. But it wasn't the fault of any of the men in those ships, they followed orders of men too frightened of what had already happened, what could have happened, to even try to understand that we…that you are the total opposite of Shaw. It's not right…but it doesn't change that it already happened."

"Does this speech have a point at all?" I couldn't help but ask sarcastically.

"The point is, you cannot fixate on one thing, not even one as bad as this." She replied. "What happened, was terrible, but the past cannot be changed…" her mouth twisted slightly for some reason but she went on. "If you keep thinking about this…you're just hurting yourselves. And it's not worth it. Those who gave the orders to fire those missiles…they're not thinking about it anymore, it's not the first time they choose to attack someone they consider an enemy: human or meta-human; and trust me, it won't be the last. They aren't worth it fixating on them, or their actions. Not when there are other things we could be doing."

"What would you have us do then?" Raven asked.

"What happens when they attack us again?" Alex stated testily.

"Then we defend ourselves, and if necessary fight back." Moira told him calmly, ignoring his temper. "Until then, focus on something else, something worth it. There's so much to do, so much good…they don't deserve to keep your…our attention all the time."

"Moira is right." Charles supported immediately. "It's regrettable that we won't be having the support of the government. And still, that cannot stop us, there is much to do…"

With that the conversation had gone along an entirely different route, as plans began taking shape regarding what would become a school and safe haven for any mutant who wished to come here. So much needed to be done, and like Moira said, it was definitely a better use of our time than thinking about the government and their stupidity…not that I was going to forget about them entirely, of course, I am no idiot, and they're still a risk, for me, for Charles, for the children, and for anyone who may come to the school in the future. However, I will wait, will allow them the benefit of the doubt, for the time being at least. Still…when they act, I'll be ready. And I know I won't be the only one.

I never actually broke down myself, strictly speaking. But that's because after the kind of life I've lived…I've long since learnt to cope with my own actions. Maybe if I had actually killed all the people in those ships, if for no other reason than I know it would have disappointed Charles… he wouldn't have been angry, no, he would have been disappointed, and somehow that would have been even more jarring. But I didn't do that, because of him, because he stopped me. Maybe if I had ended up hurting him, when killing Shaw, or at some other point during all the disaster that was Cuba…but I didn't. And what's more, when I killed Shaw I also protected Charles, and that made everything right.

So I didn't break down, not really, I still talked to Charles though, about why I came so close to killing two whole fleets, and why I decided to leave them just with a warning and a mercy I never imagined myself to be capable of.

Maybe it's precisely because of this, because I never broke down, that it takes Charles by surprise when he himself does. It doesn't surprise me, I am expecting it even, it is to be expected. Charles, regardless of how responsible he might be, how mature, how he may be called Professor and act as leader to all of us, even Moira and I…he is still so young…barely twenty five years old. He may seem years older at times, but he's still young, and before Cuba he'd never been in an actual battle, not even counting the skirmish in Russia…no, in some ways Charles is as innocent as the ones we both refer to as children.

However, what I could have never expected was what exactly makes him break down. A conversation with Moira, a week to the day since Cuba…

**xXx**

Charles and I step inside the small study (at least small compared with Charles's) she has been allotted for her stay in the mansion. We know she's been working on something in there, even if she has never told us what. Still, nothing could have prepared us for the boxes upon boxes stacked in neat piles against one of the walls.

"What is the meaning of this?" Charles asks, obviously surprised by what he is seeing.

"I know my status as Agent may still make you uncomfortable, but trust me when I say I'm doing everything in my power to make sure you will all be safe, or as safe as you can possibly be." She states with obvious honesty.

I take a quick look at several of the crates closest to me. Some are files, neatly arranged, but a few contain tapes and lots, lots of pictures. I think I can even see some diagrams that might be of Cerebro in one of the lower boxes. It doesn't take me long to understand just what we're looking at: the crates are filled with lots of things, possibly even everything that the CIA has (or I should say had) on us, on mutants.

My attention is then caught by one particular folder, in the box closest to me. It's not any file, it's a personal file, of a man I recognize as being Levene, Moira's partner… and below that there's another, and another, and another…all the same, all personal files of CIA Agents…What the hell is going on here?!

"You're honestly giving us…giving me, this?" I ask.

She's intelligent enough to at least have an idea what I might end up doing with this kind of information, even if not now, someday.

"I actually had some doubts about adding that." She admits. "But if things truly get as bad as your paranoia says they might…you might need that kind of information to protect yourselves."

"Is this really…did you really erase all record of us?" Charles asks, surprised.

"Yes." She answers. "If anyone has personal records at their homes…well, that I can do nothing about. Just like I cannot make them forget what they already know, records or not. Also…I added something else there. I imagine you will want to spring Frost out sooner rather than later?"

It's staggering, to realize this is what's she's been doing all week, working to protect…us. Moira really must be one of a kind…either that or Charles is more right than I'm willing to admit any time soon. In any case, we'll see.

It takes Charles's startled reaction for me to fully focus again and pay attention to what she just said concerning Frost. She's honestly prepared things so we can bust her out?! Isn't she supposed to be CIA?

"I don't like her, that's a given." Moira states. "But personal feelings aside, she's more of a threat where she is than with you. I imagine with Azazel's help you can go, get her, and get out with no one being none the wiser before it's too late to do anything about it."

"What happens when they begin suspecting you have something to do with this?" Charles asks. "You'll be seen as a traitor!"

"I won't be staying with the CIA after tomorrow." She confides. "After what happened in Cuba…I just do not trust them anymore. I still believe the same things I did when I joined the Agency; I just do not think anymore that they truly want the peace they preach about."

"What will they do to you if you're found out?" Charles insists.

"Do not worry about me Charles, you already have more than enough to worry about, what with your school, the children here, the children who will be coming, Erik…" She points out.

As she lets out a small giggle I see Charles blush, she's thinking quite clearly about that morning in the kitchen, right after Cuba; so clearly in fact I'm almost sure that either directly or indirectly Moira has caused that memory to surface in his mind.

"We agreed you would be telling me the truth after Cuba…" Charles declares suddenly.

I narrow my eyes at that. Yes, that's something I've been waiting for all week. Moira better had a very good explanation for whatever it is she's hiding, Charles may not want to tell me everything, but I know something is wrong, and I want to know what.

"Look, Charles…" She begins, haltingly.

I can see that she's trying to be evasive, I don't like it, and I can feel neither does Charles.

"You promised." He reminds her, eyes narrowing minutely.

"I know, I know, and before you begin to consider tearing into my mind to find out what it is I'm hiding, just hear me out please." She tries to keep us calm.

I don't like secrets, and yes, I know that's incredibly hypocritical considering I would rather keep mine; but I have no secrets from Charles (and not just because of our still-somewhat-odd bond). If we are to protect those who live in this mansion there must not be secrets, particularly not ones that may prove risky…and being Moira who she is, it's quite obvious that whatever secret she's keeping, is more than a little risky.

Then, when words finally begin coming from her mouth, they're nothing I could have ever expected, and certainly nothing I can believe…

"My name is Moira MacTaggert, former CIA Agent, Doctor in Biochemistry and Genetics and recently redrafted into the CIA…" She states in a monotone. "Whether you may believe it or not, I'm actually seventy-seven years old, I came from the future."

"It's impossible." I blurt out before I can even think about it.

"Really?" Her tone is almost teasing now. "As impossible as one man pulling a submarine out of the ocean with nothing but his will, or another erasing a week's worth of memories from one mind, or children doing things like flying, firing plasma rings, screaming at frequencies capable of shattering glass? Yep, time travel is impossible indeed."

"Why did you come back?" Charles asks in turn.

Charles, so accepting Charles, of even the most irrational things, he apparently is choosing to focus on gaining more information, as is usual for him.

"I'm afraid the answer to that question is not one you will want to believe Charles." She says.

"Tell me." He insists.

I tense, I know whatever she's going to say is bad. It no longer matters if I believe time-travel is possible or not; Charles believes it, which means he'll believe what she says about that future… and whatever happened that made her decide to come back cannot have been good…

"Ten years ago, in my time, war broke out." She begins her explanation. "It began with the creation of the 'Cure', an actual 'cure' for mutants, which I'm regretful to admit I had a part in."

I'm looking, through our bond, at what seems like stills, like pictures through time, it's the mansion, which has becomes a school, and mutants…Charles's dream has come true…then I do a double-take as the last part of her declaration echoes inside my lover's mind and I pick it up.

"I thought you claimed to accept us." I cannot help the bitterness in my voice.

Really, must I be proved right after I have finally, maybe, begun accepting the possibility that not all humans are bad?

"I do, but at that point in time I didn't know everything I should have." She babbles. "Most of the mutants I had come in contact with saw their mutations as curses, or sicknesses."

"It's part of who we are!" That's no excuse!

"I know!" She yells back. "But what do you want me to tell a young girl who only wants to be able to touch someone again, after she has spent the last number of years having to keep all of her body constantly covered, because her mutation consists on absorbing the energy and power of anyone she touches, human or mutant? What should I tell a boy who has gills, like a merman, and as such cannot ever be out of the water, cannot be a part of society?"

She's crying, but I block any emotional response I could have had. No matter how hard it sounds. We are mutants, the abilities we're born with, they're part of evolution, how can we be anything but grateful for them? And then I see, through Charles's own mind, an image that must be in Moira's, a young woman, barely more than a teenager, sitting beside a pool; everyone around is in swimwear, except for her, she's wearing pants, long sleeves and gloves, watching those around her with such sadness…my heart breaks a little at the sight.

I do not want to accept that Moira might be right, I really don't. And yet, as Charles places a hand on my own (slightly trembling) arm I cannot help but wonder, just for an instant, what it would be like not to be able to touch him, to touch anyone…

"So the 'Cure' was created, and some took it, yes?" Charles asked in return.

He chooses to move on, rather than think too much about what's going through my mind, and obviously through Moira's.

"Yes. But there was a group…they saw the existence of the 'Cure' as the ultimate action against them, and those who may want it, as traitors to their own race." Moira replies. "War broke out. And in the following ten years it only kept getting progressively worse. The 'Cure' was used as a weapon, rather than just a way to help, until it was discovered that its effects weren't exactly permanent, at least not with mutants of high class; they began regaining their powers after a while, and then developed resistance to the drug."

Well, at least some good news then. Regardless of how sad the fate of that girl might be, the mere thought of not being able to feel the metal around me anymore…I think it would be as if one of my senses were lost, or a limb…The possibility of something like that happening to Charles is even worse, if I couldn't hear his mind anymore…

"You were hit with the 'Cure' during the first battle of the war." Moira adds, turning to me. "Began recovering your powers right as the craziness of that first battle began dying out, shortly before the war truly began. You were the second person I knew who recovered their powers after having been 'cured', and the definite proof that it wasn't as permanent as it was supposed to be."

And while I don't like knowing that awful thing would be used on me, at least I know it wouldn't be permanent, and it might not be a bad thing to develop an immunity to something like that; I could even see it as a vaccine…and then I realize something I cannot believe I did not earlier…

"What about Charles?" I ask.

The thick silence is enough to tell me the answer will be the worst yet, even before she finally manages to give one.

"Charles…you…you were dead. You died before the war actually broke out." She admits at last.

"Killed?!" No! No, there's no way! I would never allow it! "By whom?"

"An out of control telekinetic."Moira says. "It wasn't her fault, not really. She was so powerful… from what I know, you sealed a part of her power when she was young; she did not know; she wasn't prepared when that part of her was unleashed when in danger…it took her over." Her voice breaks for a moment. "I do not know more than that. Only one person bore witness to the tragedy, and he never said a word about what happened…"

There's no image this time, in Charles's mind, or Moira's, but I do not need it either; I know it had to have been me, and yet that doesn't stop the denial. There's no way something could ever happen to Charles that I wouldn't die to stop! Something I express so out-loud without even stopping to think about who I'm saying this to, or how even two weeks ago I would have been caught dead before ever thinking of revealing such personal things to anyone at all.

I don't even fully realize what I've said until I suddenly feel Charles's arms around me, his voice echoing inside my head.

*No…No…never…* He repeats fervently over and over again, his thoughts fragmented but still coherent enough. *Not die for me…never…cannot live without you…*

As if there was any way I could ever live without him…

"Things between you…they weren't quite what they are now, in the time I came from." Moira reveals in a small voice.

That shocks me right out of my own depression, though only to push me to a cliff of disbelief and despair…what the hell does she mean with that?!

"Erik left me, didn't he?" Charles asks softly.

What?! No! No way in hell! I would never do that. Charles, you cannot believe that! I'm openly yelling at Charles before I even realize I'm doing it, yet he doesn't react with anger, simply looking at me with the deepest sadness I've ever seen in his eyes.

"I saw some things in Moira's mind that day, in Cuba." He explained to me in a soft voice, before turning to look at Moira. "They were just flashes, but I got the gist of it. I saw myself screaming in the wreckage of the blackbird, screaming at Erik not to do something; knowing what I know now of what went on with Shaw…I have an idea of how things went down the first time around."

He's not saying any more, and he's blocked his side of our bond, making it so I cannot see whatever is going through his mind, whatever he saw in Moira's memories before; he cannot hear me screaming mentally for explanations either. So I do the only thing I can do, I turn to Moira, trying to convey with a look all I cannot say, as my throat is too dry for a word to come out.

"I actually do not know what happened, exactly." Moira's eyes meet mine. "I remember Charles screaming at you, telling you not to do something, then he screamed…oh Lord, that scream… then when you came out of the sub you were wearing that helmet."

That god-forsaken helmet! Is its existence going to torture me in every single universe! What's worse is actually thinking about it, considering that in another world I actually chose to wear it, chose not to trust Charles…to me it is absolutely unthinkable.

"The other part I saw, I'm not exactly sure what it means." Charles admits. "I saw a flash of me falling, hurt, and you were screaming about not making the same mistake…"

That calls my attention painfully back. I remember Moira standing on that beach, pointing her gun at me; I also remember how she threw it to the sand as abruptly as she drew it. She had proven me wrong in that moment, showing that not all humans would attack us first chance they got…or had she? How different had things been in this world she claimed to come from? Had she actually shot me there? There's no way she could ever hope to achieve anything with that. Bullets are metal, I can simply repel them and…and what then?

I'm so deeply in my own thoughts I don't hear whatever they say after that, not until two words said by Charles in the most emotionless voice spear me through.

"I see." Charles just nods.

He sees…but I don't! He still isn't letting me into his mind, and it's driving me crazy! Mein Gott! We've barely been bonded for a week and loosing this connection, even if just for a short time, is making me insane!

"What did you see?" I demand.

"It doesn't matter." Charles replies simply. "It is the past. What matters is that it did not happen." He turns to Moira. "I imagine Erik chose to leave after that?"

WHAT?! What in the seven hells are they talking about now?! Leaving?! I would never leave Charles! I would…it would kill me…I would never…

"I…I…you couldn't conciliate your differences." I hear Moira reveal quietly. "You believed too much in the good of humanity, Erik in the bad." She turns to me. "Neither of you were willing to give in and compromise; and I think the tensions of what happened to Shaw and…everything else didn't help matters any. In the end, we split in two groups."

Split…split…because we couldn't compromise…I'm…I'm not that irrational, am I? And I mean, yes, Charles is sometimes an idealistic fool, but I know he's quite capable and willing to do whatever is needed to protect those he cares about. He knew Shaw had to die, what he was willing to do…Gott!

"Raven left too." Charles nods.

Raven too?! I cannot think anymore, it's just too…too much. I cannot believe I would ever abandon Charles anywhere, not for my own life! Especially not after Cuba…and Raven, his own sister…nothing makes sense anymore. It's like I was a completely different person in this world Moira claims to come from. It cannot be real…

They go on talking, about Raven and mistakes Charles might have made regarding her. I know, of course, that Charles is more than a bit overprotective. But Raven loves him, the two of them, they've had nothing but each other for so long…she wouldn't just leave him, right? Then again, I cannot believe I ever could, yet according to Moira I can and did…

Eventually I manage to begin paying attention to Moira again, though I'm still having a hard time processing all my thoughts on the matter.

"What I saw then…it doesn't have to happen, ever." She sighs briefly. "And that's the point I was trying to make. I know I promised you the truth, to tell you, and even show you if you wanted. But now, I don't think you should. Things are so different now…you shouldn't torture yourself with might-have-beens. The good, and especially the bad, those things are all gone now. You have a chance for another future, what I honestly believe will be a brighter future than the one I've lived through already." She smiles at us, a somewhat sad smile. "I believe you and Erik together can achieve so much more than you ever did apart."

After a few seconds Charles nods, he has decided not to insist anymore, which means I probably will never know anything either…Maybe it's better this way. Before, I wanted nothing more than to know the truth, but considering what I know already, do I really want to know more? I cannot imagine things being any worse, but I would rather not risk it. In the end, it's like she said, things are different now, and they don't ever have to be like what she lived before. Charles and I are together, I'm not leaving him, and I know he's not leaving me, and that will make all the difference, I believe it will.

"Well, I guess this is it then." She declares abruptly. "The end has come…"

"The end?" Her statement takes me by surprise.

"Yes, I've noticed several times now you've made reference to something like that." Charles comments. "In the way you talk about protecting us, making us safe…a week ago we were all one team, now it would see we're not."

"It's just something I've known all along is coming." She says with the same sad smile as before.

"That I'm going to wipe your mind." Charles finishes for her.

"Another erasing a week's worth of memories from one mind…" I repeat her words from before, not quite noticing I'm doing it. "You were talking from personal experience."

It takes me a few seconds to process what I myself just said. I always knew Charles was powerful, possibly the most powerful mutant in the world, and yet…it's one thing to know someone can read your mind, at any moment, even things you don't consciously remember… it's another thing entirely to know your own memories cannot be fully trusted, because they may have been altered, or erased…

I cannot help the almost violent sense of nausea that fills me at this realization, and for the first time since this awful talk with Moira began, especially since Charles began blocking me, I'm thankful the block is there, so Charles cannot know I'm feeling like this…

I'm not conscious of whatever they may be saying, or seeing in each other's minds, until I notice the awe in Charles's face as he looks straight at Moira.

"You would really do it, you would give up all those memories you cherish so much right now, your friendship with Raven, with all of us, to protect us?" He asks her softly.

That makes me do a double-take. So it's not just that it happened to her before, that she knows her memories were taken from her once and might be again…she actually accepts it, is willing to have her memories taken, for us…to protect us.

"Yes, I'm willing." She nods, and there is no hesitation in her at all. "It's alright Charles. I may not have understood the first time around. But now I do. You need to keep you, all of you safe, and I am a liability. At least there's the hope we'll meet again. I have all the intention of becoming a doctor this time around too. And since I did that before I know I won't forget. At least that way we'll get the chance to meet again someday. Even if I do not know we used to be friends." Her expression changes, it's almost mischievous as she adds. "Though, I really do think we could forego the kiss this time."

What?! A kiss?! When…? Why…? Charles would never…Moira!

I watch Charles touch her face, an obvious note of affection in his eyes…and also a lingering sadness. Is he really going to erase her memories? I know that, if the situation were any different, if Moira were anyone else, any other human, I wouldn't care, I might even insist Charles do it… and yet, it doesn't feel right. Because it is Moira, and she deserves better…

And then Moira is falling, in a dead faint, right into Charles's arms, and I would ask him what he's done, except I can see the confusion and fear in his eyes, he has done nothing, he has no idea why Moira has fainted.

All Charles can make out is that something is going on in her mind, as if absolute chaos were rearranging itself (his words, not mine). We have no idea what the end result might be, and in the end, for safety's sake, I end up asking Azazel to take her to her apartment.

**xXx**

The next morning Raven poses as a sick secretary to get into the CIA Compound, she's able to give the signal for Azazel and myself to go in and get Emma Frost before anyone realizes what's going on. By the time anyone realizes and the alarms are sounded we're long since gone. Meanwhile, Raven manages to slip inside a meeting that includes Director McCone, a dozen of high ranked CIA Agents and/or Consultants (all of which we have copies of their files) and Moira herself. It is a meeting regarding what happened in Cuba, and Moira claims not to remember anything after the destruction of Platt's base.

No one understands what's going on, nothing fits. Moira seems not to know a thing about us, even regarding things that happened before we went to Westchester, and yet according to Raven she makes mention of a kiss. What kiss? The one she mentioned to Charles before? But it did not happen for real? What has happened to her?!

Charles claims not to know anything, he didn't do anything, and he tells the children that. However, once we're in the privacy of our own quarters, He collapses on the bed and I can see something is very, very wrong…and idea that is intensified a thousand-fold when I move to touch his arm and he flinches away from me.

"Charles…?" I ask, worried.

Why is he pulling away from me? Why does he suddenly seem to fear me? What did Moira show him that caused this?

I hear a sound I'm not sure is supposed to be a snort or a sob, along with a rush of darkness so strong I cannot help but drop to my knees beside the bed, Charles just out of my reach.

*Charles…* I call to him mentally.

His reaction to that is even worse, as I suddenly feel a multitude of walls rise up to block our bond; they come fast, and they're strong, so much that in less than a handful of seconds I find myself completely alone in my mind again, and if it weren't because I'm seeing him, because I'm hearing his labored half-sobbed breathing, I would believe the image of him in that bed to be a mirage. I cannot feel Charles anymore…

It feels wrong, in a deep, fundamental way. While I kept telling him, again and again, not to read my mind; ever since that first night, in Miami, I've been able to sense Charles somehow, like his essence, brushing the back of my mind whenever we're close enough to each other. I grew used to it. The feeling only intensified after Cuba. Having that bond gone, and not even getting that slight sense anymore…I feel such an emptiness it makes it hard to breath. Makes me wonder if this is what Charles meant when he mentioned the helmet feeling like a void, like death…if so, that helmet is being destroyed right away, the moment we learn how to…as soon as I manage to stop Charles from replicating the effect…

We stay like that for a while, impossible to tell how long exactly. Eventually, Charles is the first to speak, though he says nothing I want to hear…

"You should leave Erik…" He whispers in a broken voice.

"Wha…?" I can't even finish the word, what the hell is he talking about?

"You should leave now, before I end up hurting you, or worse…" He states in the darkest tone of voice I have ever heard coming from him, from anyone.

The denial is so loud inside my own head I have a hard time imagining him not being able to hear it, despite all the psychic walls separating us, and while I cannot force my throat to make any noise I at least manage to get my body to move, at least enough to stumble onto the bed, where I hold him from behind, pulling him hard against my chest. Charles twists and struggles for a few seconds, muttering for me to release him to let him know, but I refuse to do it.

"No! Never! I'm never letting you go!" I hiss at him repeatedly. "You hear me! I'm not letting you go, no matter what!"

"You have to leave before I hurt you!" Charles practically wails.

"No!" I insist. "I trust you, you will never hurt me!"

"I could hurt you psychically, change your memories, erase them…" He rants.

"You wouldn't, you won't. I know you Charles, you would never hurt someone dear to you."

"Moira is dear to me as well, one of my dearest friends, and you heard what I did to her in that other world! I stole her memories!"

"You didn't steal them, you blocked them, otherwise she couldn't have possibly gotten them back when she came here…"

"Doesn't make a difference! I violated her trust, her mind!"

"You didn't do so this time around."

"Really? Then why did she say what Raven says she did today in that meeting?"

"Well, according to your sister she also mentioned a kiss and I know for a fact you never did kiss her in this world!"

"Even then, who's to say I won't end up doing the same to Raven, or the children, or you?! I shouldn't be trusted! I cannot!"

"You won't, I know you won't."

"You shouldn't have that much trust in me Erik, no one should. But especially you, you who have a better idea than anyone else of what I'm truly capable of…"

"How could I not Charles? You trusted me even after knowing who and what I am, everything I have done, all the people I've tortured and murdered. You saw all that and still offered yourself to me, opened your house to me, your heart, and now your mind as well…"

"That only makes you all the more vulnerable! We need to find a way to break this connection!"

"No! Just No! You won't take this from me Charles! This bond! This is us! I'm not letting you go, and I'm not letting you let go of me either, understand?"

"Erik…"

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me Charles, I'm not letting go of that. Never. Not if my life depended on it."

"What if it does? What if I end up hurting you, or worse?"

"What if I end up doing exactly that? Huh? Have you thought about that? What if I one day decide to use my power and…I don't know, strangle you with a pipe, or a piece of the bed frame? Or Gott! What if I use a pen, or a button, or one of your cufflinks to severe your throat or penetrate your heart…or any number of things I could do that would end with you dead?!"

"You would never hurt me Erik…"

"Exactly! That's exactly my point?! Why the hell should you be able to have that much faith in me and yet you refuse to allow me the same courtesy concerning you?! Charles…God knows I don't believe I deserve your trust, or your love, yet I know I have them both; why shouldn't I be able to reciprocate to that?"

"Erik…"

"When we were on Cuba…on that thrice-damned beach; when I had just killed Shaw and was holding dozens of missiles in the air, with all the intention of using them to destroy the American and Soviet fleets, annihilating all the humans who dared turn against us…I wasn't wearing that damned helmet. You could have reached into my mind to stop me. You could have forced me to stop. Damn it! You probably could have made me drop the missiles, making me believe I never wanted to hurt any of those damned humans and I would have never known it wasn't my own choice! You could have done that, am I right?"

"I…" It took him a while, but eventually he admitted it. "Yes, yes I could have done that. Which is precisely why you shouldn't…"

"Which is precisely why I trust you!" I interrupted him. "You could have done that, yet you didn't. Just like you could have made me drop my wish for vengeance on Shaw at any point since we first met in Miami, yet you never did that either. You've had so many opportunities, and you never did anything to hurt me in any way…"

"Because I don't want to hurt you!"

"Exactly! Moira…I don't want to make her situation less, but we both know the only reason you did that was for protection, of the children, of myself, of the future you were trying to create. Even Moira understands why you did it! I understand…"

His eyes widened as he looked at me in shock.

"If something were ever to happen, if I were truly to leave you, like she says I did in that other world. I would rather you take my memories than ever risk having me betray you."

"You would never betray me…"

"I keep saying I would never leave you either, yet it seems I already did that in another timeline. And we both know a betrayal doesn't necessarily have to be by my own will. There are other telepaths out there, and not all of them as nice, and…moral, as you."

Charles did not answer, apparently contemplating what I would have just said.

"So, why don't we make a deal? We trust each other from now on. I trust you to respect my memories, my mind; you trust me to stay with you and to never use my own powers against you… we trust each other."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Some things can be simple Charles. We love each other, that's the hard part, the rest just comes as a consequence of that."

I touch my forehead to his, and ever so slowly I can feel the barriers he raised to block our bond, falling, brick by mental brick. I can feel the tendrils of our respective minds as they intertwine again, and I can almost swear they are even stronger than before. I certainly want to believe that. Want to believe that this whole episode was worth it if only for that reason…

*I love you…* I hear the whisper in my mind, so full of love and light…

*I will love you till the day I die.* I reply.

It is not a promise or a passionate declaration, not the way it might be coming from almost anyone else; no, it is simply statement of fact. I love Charles, I will love him for as long as I live, him and no one else. Forever…

What comes then is quite unexpected, yet not at all unwelcomed.

*What if I do want you to use your powers on me sometimes?* He asks me, heat and passion rippling from him. *Like…maybe to have some fun…*

I get a very graphic image of what he means with those words, not like I couldn't have imagined it myself. Still, it's quite enough to have me hard so fast I can hardly believe it. I do not even say a word, I cannot find any words to say, instead I simply take hold of Charles's neck and pull him to me, crashing our mouths together in a contact that's all passionate frenzy, a desperate need to show him I truly love him, even when it's obvious he already knows.

**xXx**

Its three weeks before we see Moira again. Raven hangs around in Virginia for the first week, reporting to us about her resignation, how McCone is making sure she has the best retirement plan someone from her rank could have aspired to.

Charles and I make a small trip down there at some point, with him using his powers to make sure nothing was left behind (though I knew that part was unneeded, Moira was through), they he tweaks every single human's mind slightly, just enough for them to decide we mutants are not important right now; something that doesn't seem too hard to believe, or achieve, considering the crisis the country seems to be already in, even after the nuclear war was averted. This way at least they won't be looking for us for a while yet.

I don't like hiding, but Charles says that's not what we're doing. We'll find more mutants, create the school, prepare ourselves for a time when the existence of mutants can no longer be hidden. Then we'll see whose outlook proves true: Charles's positive belief that we can all coexist, or my belief that it will come to war. In the end, it doesn't matter, no matter what, we'll be ready.

So finally we are standing here, on Thanksgiving. Azazel delivered an invitation for Moira once we knew for sure she'd made it to her family home in Philadelphia. We still do not know what happened with her after our last conversation, and I can just hope that whatever happens today it won't make Charles break down again…I don't think I could handle it.

*Erik…* He whispers in my mind, and I can feel his mental caress.

We're standing just outside the main doors when Moira arrives. Since the invitation was sent Charles's been like crazy, wondering if Moira would come (after all, if she didn't remember us she would have no reason to) yet here she is. Soon enough she's in front of us, hugging Charles like she hasn't seen him in a long time…like she didn't expect to see him ever again.

"You did not erase my memory…" I can hear her whisper to him.

"I did not." He agrees.

"Why?" Her question seems to be so small yet so huge at the same time…

"Because you're a very dear friend and I didn't want to lose you, didn't want all of us to lose you, if it wasn't absolutely necessary." He explains.

She nods, and the happiness is evident in her face, through the sheen of traitorous tears.

"You still told your superiors your memory had been erased." Charles comments abruptly.

And finally, the part that's been bothering him the most.

"I did." She nods immediately. "That whole day felt so strange, with me feeling like I shouldn't remember something, yet doing so…and I'm not even sure why I feel like my memory should have been erased! It's the strangest thing!"

"What do you mean you don't remember?" I blanch, Charles did not do anything!

"Exactly!" She insists strongly. "It's like a part of me is convinced I shouldn't remember any of this, yet I do!"

"I did not erase anything from your mind." Charles points out soberly. "Actually, you gave us quite a scare when you fainted all of a sudden, right after we finished talking about everything that happened in Cuba…"

"What happened in Cuba…right…" She shakes her head. "I have no idea what ever made me think I ought to point a gun at a metal-kinetic." Turns to me and adds. "Really, I'm sorry about that, I do not know what came over me. It wouldn't have done any good, if anything I might have ended up hurting someone else! At least I returned to my senses and dropped the gun in time."

*She doesn't remember…* Charles whispers into my mind.

*What…?* I do not understand. *But you didn't do anything…and didn't she just say…*

*No, I didn't.* Charles agrees. *And yes, she remembers everything she should…if she had never traveled to the past.*

*So what? Like the other time no longer exists and she no longer remembers?*

*Maybe. I don't know. It's quite possible this is just a way for her mind to cope…*

*Ok, so she no longer remembers a timeline that no longer matters because it will never be. I'm fine with that.*

I really am. Nothing matters but the here and now. This world where I'm with the love of my life, where we want the same thing and will be working towards it side by side. We're together, like we shall be for the rest of our lives… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Right now the plan is to have about three more chapters narrated by either Charles or Erik and then one or two in 3rd person (mainly because, as you people might have begun to notice, the 1st person POV is beginning to become unnecessary, the stronger the bonds between Charles and Erik become). 
> 
> I may or may not end this fic with a taste of what's coming...but for that I first need to know what is! So tell me what you prefer: a whole series with several more long fics (my version of what happens in the forty years from now to the girst X-Men movie), a summary of those forty years and then straight to my version of the original trilogy, or maybe you would prefer I wait for "Days of the Future Past" to come out and see from there! I'm open to suggestions people (and that doesn't happen very often). Give your opinions please! 
> 
> On the Nightingale front...I'm still so happy that Tom Hiddleston won "Best Villain" in the MTV Movie Awards I shall be posting a chapter for that fic too! See ya there! 
> 
> Still, there won't be new chapter for this till two weeks from now, because I'm having to write the chapters as we go right now, and my muse insists on having me work on Nightingale rather than Amity. Still, I shall try my best. See ya in two weeks! Oh...and next chapter expect Charles and his way of showing Erik how much he loves him!


	6. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles take on his own breakdown and Erik's birthday.

**Chapter Six. Gift (Charles)**

Learning what I did to Moira, even if just in an alternate reality, is almost more than I can bear. It's not just that I hate knowing I can bring myself to bend my own personal rules and morals to violate someone's privacy, someone's mind like that. It's Moira…Moira who I found so sweet, and nice, and beautiful and absolutely enchanting when we first met in Oxford; who I felt attracted to, more than just physically (which is exactly why I never actually tried seducing her). In another world I might even have considered settling down with her…in a world where I had never met Erik who, with all his drive, his passion, it was an attraction that was physical yet at the same time went far beyond that. It made me realize that while Moira was a wonderful woman, Erik was all I could ever dream of…

Still, she was important, a dear friend, the first I could call that after Raven, someone who knew me, as a man, as a mutant, who knew the truth and still accepted me…and to know I had used my powers on her, against her…it doesn't matter that she understands and accepts it, that she was quite ready for me to do it once again in this world. Nothing will ever make right the crime I…or another version of me committed.

And if I'm capable of doing that to someone like Moira, who says I won't end up doing it, or even something so much worse, to someone else? Who says next time it won't be one of the children? Or Raven…? Or…I cannot even bring myself to think it.

It takes a great effort on my part to stay perfectly calm (at least on the outside) as I ask Azazel and Raven to take the unconscious Moira back to her apartment in Virginia, before informing the rest of the students I'm taking my leave, giving as an excuse that I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I don't think many of them, if any, truly believe it, but they don't try to stop me.

Somehow I manage to get to my room, collapse on my bed. It takes all my will not to black out, though I know I am beginning to hyperventilate, breathing too fast, too harsh, yet feeling like I'm getting no air at all…I do not realize I'm not alone until I feel fingers brushing against my arm, I pull away without even knowing what I'm doing.

I think I might be hearing my name, but I'm not fully sure. It's like the world is closing in around me, like I'm drowning and there's no air to breathe…no light to see…

*Charles…* I hear a low, tantalizing voice calling me.

I hear his voice, I know who he is, I feel it inside me, feel him inside me, and I want nothing more than to wrap myself in him, bury myself in him, physically and, most importantly, mentally. And that scares me so much, so I do exactly the opposite, I erect as many barriers between us as I can in a handful of seconds, the equivalent of wood, brick, cement and metal walls in a second, like creating a perfect vault. I want to protect him, but it is me he should be protected from, so I hold back from touching his mind in any way possible, keeping to creating these walls on my own side of our bond. Sealing myself in…

I feel the wrongness of the whole thing almost immediately. To know he's there, yet not be able to feel him, not even the buzz on the edge of my consciousness, the way I subconsciously touch the back of his own mind, as a way of reassuring myself he's still there. I've been doing it since that first night, when we met in the dark, cold ocean…yet it wasn't until a few days away that I realized I was doing it, and until now that I'm conscious of the emptiness I feel without him. It feels…so terrible. Like the god-forsaken helmet, the one Erik thinks I don't know he kept. The knowledge of its continued existence, of its location is there, in a corner of Erik's mind, shining like a beacon, like a kid who's gotten into the cookie jar when he knows he shouldn't, who tries to keep the knowledge from his mom, yet everything in his expression tells the truth. Erik's thoughts concerning the helmet are the same. So I pretend he keeps the secret from me, praying that he will never decide to use it to protect himself from me, even when I know he has every reason to do that very thing. So instead I seal myself, and it's like the helmet but not…it's like I am the one wearing the helmet, because I am the one who cannot hear, cannot feel, and it hurts, it hurts so bad…but if I want to protect Erik I have to keep away from his mind, so I hold on. Any sacrifice is small when it comes to protecting the one I love…

Any sacrifice…if I want him to be safe, I cannot have him here…

"You should leave Erik…" I say with as much strength as I can, though I'm almost sure my voice is still half-broken.

I know he's trying to question me, probably trying to dissuade me, but I cannot let him.

"You should leave now, before I end up hurting you, or worse…" I state, as emotionlessly as I can, ignoring how my own heart breaks at the words.

Any sacrifice…I have to bury my own feelings, appear cold and uncaring, until I can convince him to leave…then I'll be able to feel my heartbreak alone…

I'm so focused on feeling nothing that I do not realize anything is happening until a pair of long, strong arms are around me, and by then is too late. I'm being held with my back against his chest, and no matter how much I twist and struggle I just cannot get free, cannot get away from him…

"Let me go…let me go…letmegoletmego…" I mutter repeatedly, almost without realizing I'm doing it. "Just let me go Erik…please…"

"No! Never! I'm never letting you go!" I hear him hiss passionately in my ear. "You hear me! I'm not letting you go, no matter what!"

"You have to leave before I hurt you!" I want to scream, but my voice won't come out right, instead it sounds almost like a cry…

I haven't lost him yet and I'm already crying…

"No!" He insists. "I trust you, you will never hurt me!"

"I could hurt you psychically, change your memories, erase them…"

He needs to understand! He's not safe from me, nobody is!

"You wouldn't, you won't. I know you Charles, you would never hurt someone dear to you."

"Moira is dear to me as well, one of my dearest friends, and you heard what I did to her in that other world! I stole her memories!" I yell at him. So there!

"You didn't steal them, you blocked them, otherwise she couldn't have possibly gotten them back when she came here…"

"Doesn't make a difference! I violated her trust, her mind!"

"You didn't do so this time around."

"Really? Then why did she say what Raven says she did today in that meeting?"

"Well, according to your sister she also mentioned a kiss and I know for a fact you never did kiss her in this world!"

"Even then, who's to say I won't end up doing the same to Raven, or the children, or you?! I shouldn't be trusted! I cannot!"

Please, please, please…you must understand Erik…I'm dangerous, too dangerous…it's like Kurt used to say, I'm a freak…nothing more than a freak…

"You won't, I know you won't." He insists.

"You shouldn't have that much trust in me Erik, no one should. But especially you, you who have a better idea than anyone else of what I'm truly capable of…" You who understood enough to demand that I not get into your mind from the very first night…

"How could I not Charles? You trusted me even after knowing who and what I am, everything I have done, all the people I've tortured and murdered. You saw all that and still offered yourself to me, opened your house to me, your heart, and now your mind as well…"

"That only makes you all the more vulnerable! We need to find a way to break this connection!"

I knew I should have done something about this the first night…even if it hurts, even if it breaks something inside me, something more than my heart. All that matters is that he be alright.

"No! Just No!" He practically screams his denial. "You won't take this from me Charles! This bond! This is us! I'm not letting you go, and I'm not letting you let go of me either, understand?"

"Erik…" Please understand…

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me Charles, I'm not letting go of that. Never. Not if my life depended on it."

"What if it does? What if I end up hurting you, or worse?"

"What if I end up doing exactly that? Huh? Have you thought about that? What if I one day decide to use my power and…I don't know, strangle you with a pipe, or a piece of the bed frame? Or Gott! What if I use a pen, or a button, or one of your cufflinks to severe your throat or pierce your heart…or any number of things I could do that would end with you dead?!"

I can feel the vibration in my buttons, in my cufflinks, the buckle of my belt, the frame of the bed we're on, the window…everything is answering to him, like a warning, or a threat…and I do not feel the slightest hint of fear…

"You would never hurt me Erik…"

"Exactly! That's exactly my point?! Why the hell should you be able to have that much faith in me and you refuse to allow me the same courtesy concerning you?! Charles…God knows I don't believe I deserve your trust, or your love, yet I know I have them both; why shouldn't I be able to reciprocate to that?"

"Erik…" I had never thought of it like that…

"When we were on Cuba…on that thrice-damned beach; when I had just killed Shaw and was holding dozens of missiles in the air, with all the intention of using them to destroy the American and Soviet fleets, annihilating all the humans who dared turn against us…I wasn't wearing that damned helmet. You could have reached into my mind to stop me. You could have forced me to stop. Damn it! You probably could have made me drop the missiles, making me believe I never wanted to hurt any of those damned humans and I would have never known it wasn't my own choice! You could have done that, am I right?"

No, no, no….I would have never done that.

_I could…but I won't…_

The memory of my own words seems to mock me, and I know I have to admit the truth. I owe Erik at least that much…

"I…Yes, yes I could have done that. Which is precisely why you shouldn't…"

"Which is precisely why I trust you!" He interrupts me. "You could have done that, yet you didn't. Just like you could have made me drop my wish for vengeance on Shaw at any point since we first met in Miami, yet you never did that either. You've had so many opportunities, and you never did anything to hurt me in any way…"

"Because I don't want to hurt you!" Please, Erik…

"Exactly! Moira…I don't want to make her situation less, but we both know the only reason you did that was for protection, of the children, of myself, of the future you were trying to create. Even Moira understands why you did it! I understand…"

He understands…what?! No, no, no…never…I would never do something like that to him, not to Erik…it would kill me…

"If something were ever to happen, if I were truly to leave you, like she says I did in that other world. I would rather you take my memories than ever risk having me betray you."

"You would never betray me…" Never, never, never…

"I keep saying I would never leave you either, yet it seems I already did that in another timeline. And we both know a betrayal doesn't necessarily have to be by my own will. There are other telepaths out there, and not all of them as nice, and…moral, as you."

I know that was probably my own reasoning when I erased Moira's memory in the other world. She promised she would never betray me, us, but what if it wasn't up to her? Still, even with that reasoning, the mere idea of doing something like that to Erik…it's sickening, beyond that. And I know for a fact that, regardless of any hypothetical case, doing something like that would destroy me completely and absolutely…

"So, why don't we make a deal?" Erik continues after a few seconds. "We trust each other from now on. I trust you to respect my memories, my mind; you trust me to stay with you and to never use my own powers against you… we trust each other."

"Just like that?" I find it hard to believe that it can be that simple…

"Just like that." He nods. "Some things can be simple Charles. We love each other, that's the hard part, the rest just comes as a consequence of that."

His forehead touches mine and I can almost feel, taste the sincerity, the love, even through the half-dozen barriers I erected in our bond and then, before I can even make the conscious decision to do so, they begin to fall, one by one. The moment the last one disappears, it's like something snapping back into place, only it's also harder somehow, stronger; as if the brief separation somehow made the bond more powerful now, it makes me wonder if I would be able to block it again…not that I want to, but I still wonder.

*I love you…* I whisper into the bond.

Regardless of how awful this whole…episode, might have been. I need him to know, to understand, that if one thing's never changed, will never change, is my love for him. Even when I'm doing things that hurt us both, I do them all for him, because of love…

*I will love you till the day I die.* He replies.

It's not an endearment, or a promise, or some kind of crazy declaration, not what one would expect from most lovers. Instead it's more simple, and at the same time more complicated than that: it's a statement of fact. Erik loves me, he loves me now and will continue to do so for as long as he lives. He knows this and recognizes it. As do I. No one for us to love but each other, for the rest of our lives…

We stay like that for what seems like forever. He's on top of me (and how I did not notice the change of positions except for the fact that our foreheads were touching, I have no idea). I begin petting his hair almost without noticing, my mind filled with everything we just said: the love, the trust, the promises… and then something occurs to me and I cannot help but express it into our bond before I can think too much about it.

*What if I do want you to use your powers on me sometimes?* I ask him, heat that is half embarrassment half arousal filling me slowly *Like…maybe to have some fun…*

I cannot help but think about it, a rush of images, some connected, some not: metals cuffs restraining me against the bed-frame; swirls of metal caressing my naked body slowly, teasingly; the metal inside me, like an extension of him…

My half-created fantasies come to an abrupt end when suddenly Erik's hand is on my neck and he pulls me up just enough to devour my mouth in a kiss that is all passionate frenzy, an almost desperate need to possess, to give and take all we have, all we are…

He keeps holding my neck until I react enough to snake my own arms around his neck and shoulders, holding myself up; then one of his hand begins caressing my back, over my shirt, while the other slips down my rear, beneath my clothes, caressing my backside in a way so suggestive I cannot help the flush that takes over my body.

I gasp into his mouth and I'm forced to let go of his, even if just enough to breathe… I'm almost sure he can feel the fire he's lighting inside me, and it's somehow feeding his own passion. We're in a loop, almost like that first kiss we had, right after Cuba…

Clothes are shed rather rapidly and in no time at all I'm laying on my back in the very center of my bed, legs spread to accommodate Erik's lithe yet strong body in between. We both hiss the moment our naked bodies touch. The touch, already a mix of fire and electricity any other time, seems to be exponentially heightened with this new strength of our bond.

It's strange, how tonight's union began with a frenzied kiss, and yet the sex isn't like that at all, we move slowly, tenderly, as if memorizing, savoring each movement, each sensation. Maybe we are, it could have been Erik's idea, or mine, or both of ours; in the end it doesn't matter. We're so connected, there's no more I, or You…only Us…nothing else matters.

When we finally come together…it's everything, it's being inside each other at the same time, it's giving and taking, everything we have, everything we are…it's perfection.

*I don't know who I would be without you.*

Neither of us knows who the thought comes from, it's not important, we both agree with it. We are who we are, the best men we could possibly be, thanks to the other. There's no contemplating where we would be, who we would be otherwise; it's something that does not bear thinking of. Only reality matters, only the Us matters…perfection.

**xXx**

I know Erik's birthday is approaching, I also know he doesn't realize it. After such a long time alone, it's quite possible my love has mostly forgotten his own birthday, I know for a fact he hasn't had a single thought about it, at all. So I decide not to make a great production of it, I know he wouldn't like that. However, that doesn't mean I cannot prepare a more…private celebration, just the two of us.

Preparations begin with me calling an old friend: Howard Stark. He and my father worked together briefly, before my father's death. In fact, more than a few consider it a miracle that Howard didn't die as well, he was supposed to go see something my father was working on that day, but he was late for whatever the reason.

Howard felt bad for me after that and made a point of staying in contact with my family. Considering that my mother was never the most welcoming person I'm not quite sure how he managed not to lose his temper at her…I certainly did. In the end Howard wrote one of my recommendations when I went first briefly to Harvard and finally to Oxford. He was confident I would surpass my father someday…

I know he was connected, even if not directly, with the mess that just went down in Cuba. Being a weapons' manufacturer, one of the greatest in America right now, there's no way he wasn't. Still, I do not believe he knows of my involvement, or the reality of mutants. He always said he felt like there was something about me, something different, but most of the time he would claim it was my genius that he was 'sensing'.

Still, he was curious enough with the favor I asked of him; though I'm very sure that if he'd had the slightest inkling of what I pretended to do, he would have either refused, or interrogated me for hours on end on all the details. Then again, answering any question would have meant explaining about either mutations, and/or my awesome equally-mutant lover, so that was a no-no. I honestly don't know which would have shocked Howard more: the mutant or the gay part.

Howard has always considered himself a patriot, even if his definition and mine don't exactly fit. Then again, like stated before, he's a weapons' manufacturer, and I'm a pacifist above everything else. Erik's presence in my life might have made me more accepting over the possibilities of war in our future; doesn't change the fact that I still prefer peace. Also doesn't change the fact that being gay is against the law, and while Moira might know us enough to decide to push aside that fact and accept us, I'm not sure Howard would. In the end it might be a good thing that he's so busy in his works with the government to try and pay us a visit; he just sends what I asked for by private courier (it's too important to use normal mail). He promises to look me up next time he's free, I know already that can never happen; not with the school we're trying to set up, not when the government might turn against us in time. Sad as I may be to let a good friend go, there's nothing else I can do.

**xXx**

The morning of November 13th comes like any other. Erik wakes me in a most pleasant manner and then manages to coax me out of a bed and we go for a run around the manor. After coming so close to losing the use of my legs (though only Moira and I know that little detail), I appreciate the use of them much more. I take great delight in things like running, jumping, going up or down the stairs, even just standing in place. I know there is no guarantee I won't lose them at some point, somehow, so I am going to enjoy having them for as long as I do.

After the run we shower together (with a small break for…other things). We share breakfast before any of the children even are out of their beds (except for Hank, whose schedule is so eclectic it's impossible to know for sure when he's sleeping, when he's working, and I know he wouldn't be eating half as well as he does if it weren't for Raven taking meals to him). I have no training and no lessons programmed for the day, having reserved it only for my love. He smiles when he notices I'm in no hurry, though I am quite sure he doesn't yet know why exactly I have made such arrangements.

We spend the morning training some together, something we do every so often, especially since Erik insisted that I be capable of fighting hand to hand in case one day I can't use my powers. I know it's sound logic and it gives me an excuse to spend time in close contact with him, so I am willing to put up with a few twists and bruises. It isn't that bad really, I am naturally nimble. Though still, my love is pretty agile, and I have trouble fighting without thinking about every single move, which allows him to know what I'm doing before I actually do it; he, on the other hand, runs on instinct, which makes him unpredictable.

After the morning training, we share a picnic lunch. Raven and Hank were the ones to prepare it, apparently Raven has been snooping around (again) and found out it was Erik's birthday. Thankfully she realized there is a reason why no one else was told and didn't make a huge deal out of it; choosing to make lunch as their own small present to Erik. Something I let him know as I hand him the note that was inside the basket.

_Hey Erik! We imagined you wouldn't want a big production so…this is it. Hope you and Charles enjoy your lunch. Happy Birthday. Love, the children._

My love just looks at the note for the longest time, before eventually putting down.

"You knew it was my birthday?" My love asks me.

"I knew." I nod with a small smile. "I'm not sure how Raven and the others found out, maybe they went snooping around, maybe Moira knew and told them…or maybe they heard me talking to Howard last week…"

"Howard…?" He asks, brow furrowed.

I almost expect to feel some kind of jealousy through the bond, but there is none.

"I'm not stupid." He answers my unasked question. "I would know if you were interested in someone that wasn't I…so, who's this Howard? And how come I'd never heard of him before?"

"He's an old friend of the family, worked with my father briefly before he died." I tell him. "Howard Stark, he worked with the team that 'created' Captain America, so-to-speak."

"Captain America?" That catches Erik's attention.

"Yes." I nod. "They're still looking for him in the Arctic."

"You know, in 1944, trapped in the dark hell that was Auschwitz, Captain America was the promise of tomorrow, the hope for a future." Erik says wistfully. "It's what everyone whispered quietly about in the back: Captain America, the man from overseas capable of fighting a dozen men at once and win. The perfect soldier…"

"I never knew him." I admit. "Though Uncle Howard told me about him a few times." I remember one particular piece of information. "Did you know he was human? Before being a super-soldier I mean. He's no mutant, he became the Captain because of an experiment Howard worked in with some Dr. Erskine, or something like that. Before that the captain was a boy called Steve…something, he was a runt, all skin and bones, asthmatic and constantly being beaten up by bullies much bigger than him. At least that's what Uncle Howard said."

"Really?" I can feel Erik's disbelief.

"Yes." I nod. "He wanted to fight in the war, but they wouldn't let him. All the doctors said he didn't have the condition to even make it through basic training. Then something happened, I'm not sure what, and he was offered the chance to go into training, later on he was given the formula. And Captain America came to be."

"Why only one?" My love asks, confused.

"No idea." I admit. "I actually never thought to ask that, to be honest."

"What happened to Captain America?" He inquires then. "I mean, we got rumors that he was fighting some secret Nazi group or something like that, but then he disappeared. We kept waiting for him…and he never came…"

I get a flash through our bond. Dozens of people, emaciated and in dirty, in ripped clothes, with expressions that go from loss, to despair to downright emptiness. It is one of the few times I've seen something in Erik's mind related to the camps, and even if it lasts only an instant, it is still heart-wrenching. And yet, I do not say a word about it, I fight against my own instincts not to react. I know that practically any reaction I can have will anger my love, so instead I just sit there, doing nothing.

"It's quite alright, you know?" He says softly.

I furrow my brows, not understanding what he means.

"It's okay for you to react." He tells me quietly. "I know you mean nothing negative by it. You just…care. And while that in itself is still quite surprising. I'm beginning to understand."

With that said I push all the love I can to Erik, letting him know without words how much I wish I could have been there to help him.

"No, never that." He shakes his head. "If you had been there…I cannot even think about it. The mere possibility is too awful to contemplate."

I nod. I have seen enough memories of him to know the chances of me surviving something like the concentration camps isn't very high, telepathy or no telepathy. It was something I've always admired greatly of my lover, his capacity to survive, to move on with his life…

"Not very good at the last part." Erik corrects. "It took me eighteen years…"

"But you moved on." I point out. "It doesn't matter how long it took you, you did it. And in the end I'm quite sure you did a lot of good by taking down all those Nazis."

"I'm not sure that's not how most people see it."

"Does it matter how anyone outside of us, of your family, see anything you do?"

He just smiles before kissing me.

When we separate we go back to finishing out picnic. It's at that point that I remember what we had been talking about originally. Captain America and what happened to him, how he disappeared months before the end of the war…

"I do not know the details of Captain America's disappearance." I admit. "Uncle Howard never told me much. He only said that he was on a plane with the Red Skull, the head of some evil corporation working with the Nazis, they had missiles and were planning to detonate them on specific locations to cause great loss to the Allies. The Captain defeated the Red Skull, or so was said, but he couldn't deactivate the missiles. So he did the only thing he could think of: he crashed the plane far north, away from any city, any person that could be affected. Expeditions have been sent to the Arctic Circle every year since with the express mission to find him. Uncle Howard honestly believes he can be found…"

"Does he honestly believe he might be alive?" Erik's voice is tinted with disbelief.

"Honestly, I don't know if it's that, or he just wants closure." I admit.

"What do you believe?" My love asks next.

"I have no idea. Honestly. After seeing what some of our kind are capable of…who's to say the Captain couldn't find the way to survive?"

"He's no mutant."

"Maybe not, but the experiment changed him. Who knows how much?"

We are nearly finished with the picnic, there is a small apple pie with whipped cream on the top. The children know Erik doesn't like chocolate, even if they have no idea the associations that sweet had for my love. They simply respect his opinion and decided on a different kind of cake. Erik liked fruit, so apple pie seemed like a safe choice. I am glad when I see my lover enjoying it, as we take turns feeding each other pieces of the pie. It's right as we are about to finish that he seems to remember something:

"You first mentioned this Uncle Howard in connection to my birthday." He comments. "What does he have to do with anything?"

It takes me a second to remember that little detail and I'm quite sure by that point I cannot help the smirk that overtakes my expression.

*Oh…I like that smirk…* I hear him in the back of my mind.

"Lets just say I needed his help to get your birthday present." I say coyly.

"Really, and what might my birthday present be that you needed help to get it?" He inquires.

"Wouldn't you love to find out…"

With that I carefully place a small idea in his mind, light enough that he can ignore it if he so chooses (I am never going to manipulate my love), still, I know he's curious enough to do as I ask. So he will wait five minutes while I go ahead to our room and get everything ready for him to get his present.

I am so very nervous as I wait for my love to arrive to our bedroom. While I know he truly wants me physically, and he'd seemed open when I first offered some fantasies…I have no idea how receptive he will be to them when he realizes they are actually possible. Still, I've already made my choice, Howard sent me the materials, which was supposed to be the hard part. So I do all I can by that point, I undress and lay naked on our bed, the small box with my Erik's actual present arranged beside me.

When my love arrives his eyes go straight to me, and there is such heat in his gaze I cannot help my body's almost instant reaction. The smirk his mouth forms, along with the shadow of lust on his eyes show just how much he appreciates that response from me.

"I still don't see how this present required any help." He quips as he begins undressing himself.

I roll my eyes before mentally nudging his attention to the box beside me. That calls his attention enough that he stops undressing, staying in just half-opened kakis by the foot of the bed; and while a part of me is focused on seeing his reaction to what is in the box, there is another not-smaller part of me that regrets not being to see him completely naked just yet. Really, there are few things I like as much as seeing my love completely bare…and almost all of them are related to that fact in one way or another, so…

There is obvious curiosity in Erik's eyes as he places a knee on the bed and undoes the ribbon keeping the box closed.

"Do I feel metal?" He asks out-loud. "I've been feeling something metal new in the house in the last few days. Though it feels strange, like no metal I've sensed before…"

"It is metal." I nod. "And it's unlikely that you've come across one like this before. It's rare."

"How rare?" He asks.

Finally he opens the box, bringing out a piece of metal that looks like steel, or maybe silver, but is neither. It's about half an inch wide, and about eight long or so and not thick at all.

"The metal is called vibranium." I tell him softly. "It's what Captain America's shield is made of, in fact. Quite rare, durable, it absorbs kinetic energy, a phenomenon that strengthens it. I honestly don't know how hard it might be to manipulate…"

"I can sense it." He says in a whisper as he begins floating the piece of metal. "It feels amazing. Like…like the greatest metal ever…" He looks into the box, floating up several more similar pieces. "There's five pieces total here…"

"Yes." I take a deep breath before dropping the bomb. "I remember there being a comment about playing with metal…"

I send him an image. It lasts just half a second, but judging by the way he freezes in place I know he's seen it. What I don't know yet is whether he liked it or not…

The answer comes as I feel four of the pieces touching me, one on each wrist, and one on each ankle. Erik manipulates them simultaneously, turning them into cuffs, he seals them seamlessly, so they will be impossible to take off by anyone but him.

"Are you alright with this?" He asks suddenly, still holding a hand up. "I mean, the fact that you cannot take them off…"

"It's perfect." I assure him, sending him the impression of a kiss in the corner of his mouth, since I can't move from my position with his focus still on the cuffs. "This was more or less what I had in mind when I got them."

"You will never be able to take them off…" He whispers.

"I think that's the point." I shrug.

That is all I say, waiting until the crux of it all dawns on him; I can feel the moment it does. The moment his brain illuminates with one single word:

*Trust…*

His eyes bore on mine, as if waiting for a different explanation. I smile.

*Yes, I trust you.* I say straight into his mind, so there can be no doubt about my words. *And if these…* I signal to the cuffs. *Never come off…I will be perfectly happy.*

In an instant he is upon me, his mouth devouring mine in a kiss that is all passion and desire. It is also as he presses his body against mine that I realize he's naked…and when exactly that happened I just have no idea.

It isn't until I feel the strange warmth that I always associate with metal being manipulated by my love, around my neck, that I remember there was a fifth piece of vibranium in the box. I feel a brief sliver of doubt, while I am perfectly fine with the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, I'm not fully sure how I feel about a collar…thankfully I don't have to find out. As I soon realize the metal is much longer and thinner than it was before. Erik turned it into a chain. It, liked the cuffs, was sealed, with no latches or locks, but still, thin and long enough not to be noticed if I wore it under the collar of my shirts. Not that I would ever forget about it, or think anything less of it than it was meant to be, as I can feel Erik softly tugging on it. I can imagine him doing exactly that any day, at any time: in the middle of a meal with the children, or during a training session, or a class…the thought makes me even harder, if that is even possible.

"Yes, this has potential." Erik murmurs into my ear.

It's as if he heard my thoughts, which is quite possible in fact…

"A lot of potential…" He groans.

Erik grounds his pelvis against mine for a second, ripping a strangled moan from my throat; but then he pulls away. His knees are on the sides of my hips, and he's just out of my reach; however, when I try to reach for him, the cuffs won't let me. Even the seemingly thin chain resting on my chest feels so heavy I couldn't move much.

I have a moment of shock as my brain processes just how much control over myself I am giving my love. Next I feel thrilled, it's exactly what I wanted. I am always in control: being a telepath, and an Xavier, and now a professor, I always had to be in control… not right now. Right now it's absolutely perfect.

"Yes, you give control to me…" Erik whispers into my ear as he bits my lobe slightly. "Let me take care of you…"

I groan…that is all I want…all I'll ever want.

Definitely the best idea I ever had for a birthday present.

Now the problem will be…how am I supposed to top it next year?!

**xXx**

While Erik and I hadn't been together for long, I had already grown used to sleeping beside him and, most importantly, waking up beside him. Still, waking up to feel him not just on one side of me, sometimes with an arm around my middle, but also on every single limb and around my neck, at the same time…it was an entirely new feeling.

It was strange, for so many years I was on my own. Even with my sister, in the end I couldn't help but feel alone. Being a telepath, while certainly made it easy for me to establish contact with people, it didn't help much with actual friendships; after all, what good was to know what to do or say to gain someone's approval when it might not be what I myself might want to say or do, when the very person I was trying to make contact with might not like what I truly wanted to say or do. Then there were the people who knew about my telepathy and wanted me to stay out of their head…as if it were something I could just turn off. Staying out of someone's head actually took more effort than getting in, because it went against my natural instincts, and it also required a constant effort.

The bond with Erik had proven a blessing on all fronts. I didn't have to pretend with him, neither did he, and neither of us could hide either. There was always a change we might one day happen to hear or sense things we didn't like, but that was a possibility with every relationship, right? We'd already had tense situations with our bond, like when each of us had believed the other didn't want it, but we managed to sort it out and move on.

Also, and perhaps the most amazing things of all, was that this bond allowed me a permanent point of focus. It wasn't actively suppressing my telepathy, it was being able to focus on just one person enough that I didn't have to hear others if I didn't have to. It was being able to sleep without everyone's dreams (or nightmares) invading my own, it was being able to wake up when I was fully rested and not when everyone else got restless. It was being able to have my head to myself when I truly wanted it…

*My love…* I heard my love's whisper in the back of my consciousness.

Well, not completely to myself, but it's not like I mind Erik being there, he's a part of me now… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS: This is the last chapter I have written thus far, though I am currently working on the next one. The plan right now is two to four more chapters for this and then either a short interlude before I tackle my version of the original movie trilogy, or straight to that last part. However, there's one thing I really need to know, because my muse keeps sending me twisted ideas and, for the first time ever, I really want to know what everyone would prefer before actually doing anything. Should I leave Charles and Erik as a couple, just the two of them, or would you accept it if I made it a triad (an equal, polyamorous one) by adding Moira to the equation. This question is very important. I have lots of ideas with the three of them together and, granted, even a few with just Charles and Erik (Moira either alone or with another mutant). However, I just cannot make up my mind! And if I want to get this going I need a decision to be made now! So, since you're the ones reading and who will decide if you read or do not read one version or the other... I'm open to opinions. 
> 
> PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. 
> 
> On the subject of the next chapter: Moira's return after supposedly forgetting about Charles, Erik and the children, and the men's reaction to what she has actually forgotten. The beginning of a new life... Memories


	7. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories are so important, they are a person's life in many ways. But what about memories of a time now gone, of a timeline that no longer exists? Should the present depend on a future already lost on a past that has been changed?

**Chapter 7. Memories (Charles)**

When I have Azazel deliver the Thanksgiving invitation to Moira's home in Philadelphia I'm not actually sure what I'm expecting. On one side I keep hope that she might have been pretending when she claimed to have forgotten everything, the day she resigned as a CIA Agent; I also hope that if she truly has truly lost her memories I might be able to help her. And yet, at the same time, I cannot keep away the fear that those memories might truly be gone, and that even with all my power I might not be able to get them back… What happens then? Should I try to befriend Moira all over again? Should I just let her go on with her life like we never met? Which one is fairer to her? And what about her friendship with Raven? My sister is devastated at losing her first friend since me… Moira told me I blocked her memories in the other timeline, did she now forget because that's how things were supposed to be? Does that mean that I will still end in that wheelchair and Erik will leave me? The mere contemplation of such a thing causes such pain deep inside I cannot help but gasp.

*Charles…* His mutter is more feeling than actual words but I can still feel him.

I respond automatically in a similar manner, mentally whispering his name, something I accompany with a mental caress… he's actually beginning to grow used to those. Not only they're awesome foreplay (Erik smirks), but they are part of us, of our bond, a way to be with each other even when we cannot physically touch…

In that moment I realize that it doesn't matter what may have happened in another timeline, only what happens in this one; the life we're living right now is the only one that counts. It's the very reason why Moira didn't want to tell us more than absolutely necessary. Maybe she was right… most likely… I truly hope she's alright. With memories or without them, she's done so much for us, for me… I may just have a very vague idea of where I would be if she hadn't intervened, hadn't tried so hard to change things, to make them better; and that's enough to feel absolutely thankful to her for the rest of my life… I just hope I'll get to tell her that.

We're standing just outside the main doors of the manor when Moira arrives in her car. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding; while there's still the awful possibility of her not having her memories; it's less likely than before, as I cannot imagine anyone would choose to attend a Thanksgiving dinner with people they do not know (or do not know they know, whatever).

Before I'm fully conscious of what's going on Moira is in front of me, and she's hugging me; so tightly, so effusively. She obviously knows who I am, what we are to each other… and yet, as she hugs me, I also get the impression that she hadn't expected to see me ever again…

"You did not erase my memory…" She whispers in a quiet, half-broken tone.

"I did not." And yet I'd been so afraid the last month that I might have, if just by accident.

"Why?" Her question seems to be so small yet is in fact so huge…

"Because you're a very dear friend and I didn't want to lose you, didn't want all of us to lose you, if it wasn't absolutely necessary." I try my best to explain to her.

She's happy, I can see it, I can hear it… her happiness is such she's broadcasting pretty loudly (though she doesn't seem to notice it) even as some traitorous tears keep falling too.

"You still told your superiors your memory had been erased." I blurt out, thinking of the grief the whole situation has been causing me.

"I did." She nods immediately. "That whole day felt so strange, with me feeling like I shouldn't remember something, yet doing so…and I'm not even sure why I feel like my memory should have been erased! It's the strangest thing!"

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Erik steps in, brows narrowed, immediately getting a bit defensive of me.

He truly believes I couldn't have done anything, and doesn't like the implication of the opposite. I, however, do not take it as an accusation, though I certainly am curious about what might have happened to her.

"Exactly!" She insists strongly. "It's like a part of me is convinced I shouldn't remember any of this, yet I do!"

"I did not erase anything from your mind." I tell her, maybe a bit more seriously than I intend, but still. "Actually, you gave us quite a scare when you fainted all of a sudden, right after we finished talking about everything that happened in Cuba…"

"What happened in Cuba…right…" She shakes her head. "I have no idea what ever made me think I ought to point a gun at a metal-kinetic." Turns to Erik and adds. "Really, I'm sorry about that, I do not know what came over me. It wouldn't have done any good, if anything I might have ended up hurting someone else! At least I returned to my senses and dropped the gun in time."

I realize the truth then, and it's so shocking I can barely hold back my gasp, though Erik still picks up my reaction through our bond.

*She doesn't remember…* I whisper mentally.

*What…?* He doesn't understand. *But you didn't do anything…and didn't she just say…*

*No, I didn't.* I nod mentally. *And yes, she remembers everything she should…if she had never traveled to the past.*

That is the whole point. She truly has lost her memories, though only the old set, of the timeline that has been lost, of a time that has never been, and now will never be, not as it was before.

*So what? Like the other time no longer exists and she no longer remembers?* Erik asks.

He seems to be having trouble wrapping his mind around the whole thing. Then again, the mere idea of time-traveling, and especially a human time-traveling, goes beyond anything I could have imagined possible in fifty years… in fifty decades, centuries even!

*Maybe. I don't know.* I have to ponder a bit more on the situation. *It's quite possible this is just a way for her mind to cope…*

The memories might still be there, with her just not having access to them anymore as a coping mechanism from her mind, so as not to go insane as more things happen that don't fit with what she knows… or they may be truly gone now. We might never know… and I'm in hurry to find out, honestly; not unless it becomes completely necessary.

*Ok, so she no longer remembers a timeline that no longer matters because it will never be.* Erik mentally shrugs. *I'm fine with that.*

He truly is. And really, Moira had already convinced me not to ask anymore about that 'other future', since we were in a completely new timeline with the changes already made. It might even be better this way, there is no temptation anymore… Our lives will be what we make of them, through our choices, no alternate memories, no fears of things that might never be, just us, and the amazing future before us.

"Moira!" We can all hear Raven calling as she rushes to us.

Raven knew why we'd asked her and the others to wait for us to receive Moira before any of them approached her. However, it seems she's decided it's been long enough, and I barely manage to step back before she barrels straight over me to reach Moira and embrace her tightly. For a second I fear Moira reacting to my sister's blue, scaly skin, but she doesn't even bat an eyelash, just looking Raven up and down briefly before smiling and embracing her back.

"Looking good Raven." She says, and I can tell she's completely honest.

*Tone down your over protectiveness or you're going to begin broadcasting beyond our bond.* Erik teases me with a smirk I can actually see and not just feel, his tone softens as he adds. *I know you want to protect her Charles, but she's not a child anymore.*

*I'm afraid a part of me will always see her like that.* I admit. *I will never forget the way she looked when I found her in my kitchen, so small, so hungry, so alone… she was the first person I truly cared for after I lost my dad, the thought of losing her…*

*You won't lose her Charles.* Erik assures her. *And truly, there's nothing wrong about taking care of those you love. You know we have a number of mutants already here, and more to come; and we will protect them all. Just… don't forget to let them grow up. They've all got to do it sometime. Raven should be good practice.*

I shake my head mentally. It still seems strange to me, as right as I know he is, the idea of letting Raven go… but indeed, he is right. Raven is a young woman who deserves to live her life in the light, and not just the shadows I've created in an attempt to keep her safe. So I shall let her grow up as she wishes… though I will still take care of her to the best of my abilities, and may god have mercy on whoever tries to hurt her, for I know I won't.

Erik chuckles some more mentally, probably picking up on my line of thought. However, he doesn't say a word, instead nudges my attention back to the present to Raven's and Moira's current conversation:

"My natural form, but wearing clothes." My sister is telling Moira. "I get to be myself, without giving my brother a heart attack by being completely naked!"

I feel like I might flush. Yes, I might have seen many women naked, and sometimes not necessarily through my own eyes… doesn't mean I need to see my sister that way. I mean… she's beautiful, I know that, I'm not blind, or stupid but… she's my sister!

Finally we go inside and the other children begin calling animatedly to Moira, they all seem delighted to have her back. Even Janos and Azazel, who only knew her for a week before she had to leave (and it was a week when she was absent for long periods of time, as she made sure to collect everything the CIA might have on us), they seem pretty intrigued by the human in our midst, her acceptance of all of us, even those more noticeably 'different'.

**xXx**

The next morning most of the inhabitants of the manor disappear to take advantage of the Black Friday offers some stores have. Raven even asks me to allow them to use a couple of cars, and after making sure that at least two of them have drivers' licenses I tell them where the keys were as well as the garage and let them lose, reminding Raven to leave my car alone…

"Did you know you have way too many cars?" Erik asks.

Considering how giddy Raven was asking while asking me to use a couple of cars (and the fact that Erik obviously had noticed the connotation of there being more than two cars in the garage), my love had grown interested and we both followed the kids to the garage.

We watch the others leaving, with Moira and Janos driving each one of the cars, before Erik calls my attention back to the rest of the vehicles in the garage. There's almost a dozen, including Moira's (she'd taken one of mine since they fit better in it). Most of them are old cars, at least a decade old or so, but very well maintained.

"Kurt, my step-father, he liked cars." I explain. "Particularly new, fancy cars as you must be able to see. My mother bought two or three of these for him, then there were others he fought, with her money but still, during the time they were married. Cain usually took one, a Ford Anglia his father favored. It's no longer here… I suppose he might have crashed it at some point before the fire, I actually don't remember."

"This car looks older than all the others." Erik comments as he observes a red car at the beginning of the rather impressive (if I do say so myself) line of vehicles.

"That's because it is." I nod. "That Mercedes was the last gift my father gave my mother. While she never did learn how to drive, she had someone to drive her, that was the car she always used. Father gave it to her when it was brand new, not just that particular car, but it was the very first one of its kind. Only the richest and best connected could afford such cars back then. Mother kept using it even after father died, even after far betters cars came out, she refused to use any car but that one. In fact, she once had a huge fight with Kurt when he wanted to get rid of it. It's the only time I remember ever hearing them fight about anything…"

"Your mother must have really loved your father…" Erik comments.

"Maybe…" I cannot help but shrug. "I honestly do not know. By that point she spent more time drunk than not; and whenever she wasn't pissed off drunk she would get awfully depressed… I couldn't handle reading her thoughts then, so I stayed out of her mind as much as I could."

*I'm sorry…* His apology is more whisper of feelings than actual words but I hear it anyway.

It takes me a few seconds to understand why he is apologizing exactly, as I see in his mind snippets of his own family, his parents the love he witnessed between them every day for the few years he had them; even when hiding from the Nazis, in the ghettos, even that awful day as they were being lead to Auschwitz… the love between Edie and Jakob was there for all to see. It was all so bittersweet…

*You have nothing to be sorry for, my love…* I whisper into his mind, letting him feel that I truly mean it. *We each have lived our own lives, have done the best we could with the cards we were dealt. You once told me I shouldn't regret that you ended in a Concentration Camp and there's nothing I can do to change that… well, likewise, there's nothing you can do to change the fact that your parents loved each other while mine…well, maybe they did, I never got to see it. In the end, the past cannot be changed…*

*I'm not so sure about that.* Erik's tone surprisingly turned impish. *Isn't that exactly what Moira did just a month ago?*

I shrug, he's right of course, but it doesn't change the point of our conversation.

"Anyway." He's talking out-loud again. "You told Raven she couldn't take your car… will you show it to me?"

"You might think it's too much…" I admit.

I'm more than a bit embarrassed but I still I lead Erik to the very end of the line of cars, to the one covered by a dark blue tarp. I pull it off with one smooth move, and I can feel through our bond the moment he truly takes the car in. It's a sports car, my car, a 1953 Chevrolet Corvette, white on the outside, with red interiors and a black canvas soft top. The car was one of the very first generation of its kind (back when they were built by hand).

"It was the last gift my mother gave me." I explain to him quietly. "It was famous from the start. My mother ordered this one for me as a high-school graduation present. I only actually used it once, to go partying with Raven the day after I graduated… after that we moved to England and since we were living in a flat in Oxford I didn't actually need a car…"

"You're right, it's a lot." Erik agrees, though I can see the smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "When are we taking it for a drive?"

I hold up the keys. Truly, the possibility of it hadn't actually occurred to me until Raven put the keys in my hand as she kissed my cheek goodbye before leaving with the others but really, Hank is in his lab doing… something. Azazel is sleeping (according to him he's a more of a night kind of guy) and everyone else is out shopping. Nothing will happen if we go out for a spin… and even if I have only ever driven that Corvette once, I really, really liked it…

The keys don't stay long in my hand, suddenly Erik has them and is already sitting in the driver's side of the car, even as he uses his powers to get the passenger's door to me.

"I thought this war my car…" I can't help but pout.

He just smirks at me before kissing me, a short but quite intense kiss. It steals my breath away.

By the time I'm in all my senses again we're passing the mansion's main gates and going faster than I would have expected. The top is also down, so I can feel the wind rushing all around us. The thrill is even more amazing than I remembered… and then I remember what Erik just did.

"Cheater!" I cry out at him.

My voice is half lost in the wind, though I know that, at least through our bond, he heard me; and he also heard my inner laughter. I'm just too happy to possibly get angry at him. And besides, seeing him so happy makes me absolutely joyous. I briefly pray that the rest of our lives will be filled with many more such wonderful moments… together.

**xXx**

We spend at least a couple of hours driving around, taking advantage of the fact that the manor is outside of town, and that very few people travel through those roads to go as fast as we like (and can). Eventually we have a late lunch in a diner before returning to the manor. Moira returns a few hours later in a cab (apparently the other girls' idea of a shopping spree was too much for her and she chose to bail out). Erik and I held her a bit with her things before she disappears into her room to take a bath and relax.

We find her again while walking through the manor's grounds. For a while neither of us speak, just walking in a somewhat awkward silence.

"So, how many students do you think you'll have here, once you get the academy up and running?" Moira breaks the silence after a while.

"As many as I can manage." I tell her with enthusiasm. "Possibly more."

Talking about the school I'm planning to create is one thing I enjoy very much.

"I cannot imagine the torture it's all going to be, with brats running all around." Erik pretends to shudder before chuckling.

I just shake my head. I know he's as excited about the whole thing as I am… well no, not quite, but he definitely likes the idea. The prospect of helping others so they never find themselves in the position I was… in the positions any of us was… scared, confused, misunderstood, alone…

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll go all paternal on them." Moira says in a tone that shows unexpected confidence. "While Charles will be the mother-hen."

"Hey!" I cry out with a pout. "I resent that."

I'm trying to appear annoyed, I'm really trying, but hearing Erik chuckling both out-loud and in the back of my mind makes it harder for me to fake any annoyance when his having fun (even at my expense) makes me so absolutely happy…

"I'm sure you do." Erik chuckles, before pulling stealing a kiss from me.

Well, it's not like he has to steal anything really. Erik knows any kiss I have to give will always be his, all I am will always be his.

My giddiness at the unexpected PDA is interrupted when I sense Moira's tension growing rather unexpectedly. Whatever it is she's thinking (because at the moment I'm too focused on Erik to pay attention to her own mind), it's probably not good.

"Moira?" I ask her, worried.

"Charles, I need you to read my mind." She says abruptly.

I'm still a bit confused, but I do as she asks, soon realizing what it is she wants me to see. As I focus in the memory I make sure Erik is getting it all as well. I don't plan on hiding things from him, and if anything were to happen, it'll be important for him to know everything.

_The memory begins with Moira, Levene, McCone, Stryker, and a few other people Erik and I recognize thanks to the files Moira left for us (and Raven pretending to be the secretary taking notes of the meeting), sitting in the very conference room where Raven and I were first introduced to the high ranking members of the CIA._

" _I remember the attack on HQs…" Moira is saying, probably in response to something, but there's a strange quality to her voice, like she isn't really paying attention to what she's saying. "Leaving to go somewhere else…and then this morning…I woke up at home. And that's it."_

" _All that time wiped clean from your mind. Just gone." Director McCone seems more shocked than disbelieving. "He can do that? You don't remember anything?"_

" _Sometimes I get fragments." She murmurs half-heartedly. "Like...trees, sunlight…a kiss…"_

_A kiss…? Yes, I… we knew she'd mentioned a kiss, but right after she says it I can sense her thought, as she realizes how ridiculous that is. How there's no way I could have kissed her because I'm in a relationship with someone else, with Erik…_

" _Oh, Jesus!" The Director exclaims right then. "Gentlemen, this is exactly why the CIA is no place for a woman!"_

_She doesn't reply to the McCone's comment, though she still rolls her eyes. Instead she focuses more on her memories she can suddenly call on easily, memories of Westchester, of Cuba, and of all of us. Her wonder at realizing she still has her memories, as her mind begins to finally clear, is interrupted by the alarm suddenly echoing all around._

_Instantly Agent Stryker has the phone in hand and is yelling questions into it. Eventually the truth is found out. To a point, they just realized Frost isn't in her cell anymore… Erik snorts in a corner of the bond. He and Azazel had gotten Frost out before the Agents even arrived, and it took them nearly half a day of work to even realize anything had happened._

_Most of the men leave the room in a hurry, I agree with Moira in the idea that it's completely ridiculous, not like they will be able to do anything. What's done is done. But then McCone is calling Moira and she realizes she's not fully alone._

" _MacTaggert."_

" _Yes sir?" She's very respectful in the way she speaks, wary too._

" _Are you completely sure that you do not remember anything after the attack on HQs?" He asks._

_Briefly I wonder if he suspects her of lying, but nothing gives her out. Moira truly is an amazing Agent, in more ways than the CIA will ever get the chance to find out. She easily portrays calm, sincerity, and even a level of vulnerability expected from most women, and especially someone that has been hurt as much as I supposedly hurt her… She knows what's expected of her, and acts accordingly. Of course I (and Erik too) know her enough to realize it's all an act, that and I can sense through her memories the underline thought that goes into her acting._

" _Absolutely sir." She takes no time falling into character. "I…I think it might actually go back further than that. The memories of the summer are blurry. I remember the time I spent in the office, and some nights at my apartment, but not much of what I did the rest of the time, other than I was with them…I suppose, if it truly was one of them who did this to me, they just didn't want to take any chances that their safety might be compromised…"_

_And just like that she's given a perfectly good reason not to say anything about us…ever._

" _What about our safety?" McCone grumbles._

" _Sir?" It's obvious she doesn't like what she's hearing, but holds back her actual dislike, switching it for doubt._

" _People who can read minds, who can make themselves look like anyone they've seen, who can lift submarines from the ocean and disable every weapon created by man…" McCone enlists with growing tension. "What are we supposed to do if they decide to turn against us? How are we humans supposed to protect ourselves?"_

" _Sir, with all due respect, you turned against them first." She speaks before fully realizing it._

" _What?" That actually seems to take him by surprised._

" _In Cuba sir." She clarifies._

" _I thought you did not remember."_

_For a fraction of a second I can sense her horror at realizing that she might have just given herself away. But then, just as fast, he gets an idea of how to cover it up and is putting it in practice with apparent calm._

" _I don't." She excuses with fake ease. "But I read the reports filed by the Fleet Commanders before the meeting. The missiles that were fired at the beach… according to what I read, the beach was supposed to be secure by that point? Why fire then?"_

" _We had no confirmation that the threat had truly been neutralized." McCone tries to give an excuse, and not even a good one._

" _Did I not confirm it?" She knows she did, but she has to hold back her anger at it, and it takes more effort than she had expected._

" _You did. We had no way of knowing if you had been compromised." By that point McCone is reaching, and even he knows it._

" _If I…but only C…Mr. Xavier would have been capable of that, right?" She's trying to help, even if deep down she knows how unlikely it is her plan will work. "Wasn't he on our side?"_

" _Sides are relative MacTaggert." The Director almost snaps. "They are not human, we cannot hope for them to be with us. Especially not considering what Lehnsherr did with those missiles… he was supposed to be on our side too."_

" _But the missiles didn't kill anyone, did they?" She just keeps trying…_

" _No, thankfully they exploded before they hit any of the ships. Still, the unmistakable truth is that we cannot grow complacent, next time we might not be as lucky."_

" _Well, I still think that as long as we aren't the ones to throw the first punch, so to speak, we shouldn't have anything to worry about."_

" _You…you let us make these decisions, alright?"_

_It's at that point that she finally accepts that no matter what she says, there's just no way to make her boss see reason. She'd known it beforehand, but had held hope she might be able to at least make him consider it… not anymore._

" _In any case, I hope you realize that even if not exactly your fault, you're going to be getting an official reprimand for the way all this turned out." The Director goes on._

" _But it's not my fault my memories were erased!" She's almost whining at that point, but she's understandably angry at being punished for something not her fault_

" _I'm sorry MacTaggert, there's nothing I can do about it, my hands are tied." Load of bullshit._

_Moira is bristling, very much so. She even briefly considers ranting at her boss. It's not like he can threaten her with dismissal, she already has her resignation letter ready. But then she considers the possibility of truly losing her temper mid-rant and ending up saying things she shouldn't. She believes herself lucky she hasn't been caught already. Erik just snorts slightly as her thought of him killing her if she ruins something reaches him. While he may not want, or even be able to admit it, I know he cares about Moira, as a friend at the very least. After everything she's done for us… he wouldn't hurt her._

" _It's quite alright sir." She chooses to say out-loud, before handing him a sheet of paper._

" _What is this?" He asks, not even reading it._

" _My resignation sir." I answer promptly._

" _Your what?" His shock is evident, he didn't see that one coming._

" _I came to the CIA to help our country sir, not to be a glorified secretary, which I know is pretty much what will be happening after that meeting I was just in." It's mostly an excuse, but we all know she's still right. "I am not interested."_

" _MacTaggert, do you realize what you're doing?" McCone insists, very serious._

" _Yes sir, I'm taking charge of my life." She smiles with an emotion he could never hope to understand. "I always knew it wouldn't be easy, being a woman in the CIA. But after this… it's going to be next to impossible! Maybe someone else will come, one day, prove to you that women can, in fact, be good Agents. I just don't care for it right now."_

" _What will you do then?" He inquires, curious._

_I may not be able to read his mind, but I can imagine him wondering once again if he's lying, if she will be meeting us after she's away from the CIA. If he had just known how right that thought was… but even if he did have her followed, Moira is too intelligent not to notice, and not to find a way to get away from her tail. I know we're safe, and Erik shares my confidence._

" _I don't know." Moira shrugs, pretending to be indecisive, when in fact the path before her is clear enough in her mind. "Probably go back to school. I seem to have gained a certain interest in medicine recently…who knows? Maybe I'll end up doing something better of my life than I ever could have here at the CIA." She shakes her head. "In any case sir, we both know I have more hope of making a life anywhere but the CIA right now."_

_He nods, he can't deny that. So in the end he doesn't say anything else, just adding his signature to the document and handing it back to her._

" _I will make sure you have the best retirement plan we can offer someone of your status, and a good pay for this last assignment." He assures her. "Regardless of how much we may dislike some of the end details; truth is we would be in a Nuclear War right now if it weren't for you."_

" _And them." She adds, one last half-hearted attempt to make her boss think twice about things._

" _And them." He nods, though reluctantly._

_She doesn't insist after that. He's made up his mind, as has she, they both realize it, both Erik and I do as well. Lines have been drawn in the sand, and not everyone will be on the same side. Even those of us who don't necessarily have to be enemies, we won't be friends either._

_I can feel Moira's hope that if her now-former-boss ever does act against us that it won't happen until we're ready to protect ourselves, maybe even to fight back. Then she goes down a very particular line of thought, hoping that think won't end up 'as bad as the first time around', and as soon as she thinks that she's left wondering where exactly that came from, what it might mean… things like apocalyptic futures, alternative timelines, second chances are suddenly things of fantasy, of science-fiction novels, no longer the certainty they were when she was a part of all that. She no longer remembers ever being a part of that…_

So she truly forgot about the other timeline, her time-travel, the things she changed and how she ended saving us in more ways than one… I hum slightly, considering the implications, hoping we won't be needing those memories eventually.

"I really, truly hope I did not end up making things harder, saying too much, but he just made me so annoyed!" Moira hisses, annoyed. "What he said about you all…"

I can sense the emotional turmoil in Erik, he's angry, just short of furious, at McCone, and probably the CIA in general. But he's also feeling particularly protective of Moira, he realizes the kind of danger she was in as she argued with her boss, how things could have gone very wrong very quickly if the Director had chosen to act on his suspicions that she knew more than she was revealing… if he, or anyone else in the CIA were ever to realize not just what Moira said (and did not say) but also what she did concerning all the evidence they'd gathered on us. It wouldn't be good… not at all. Erik realizes that and it makes him feel protective of Moira, almost as much as I do… I hope Moira sees it too, and that she can connect the right emotion to the person it is meant for. That she realizes that Erik truly cares, even if he tries to hide it.

"No, you did not say anything bad Moira." I barely remember to assure her. "In fact, I am honored, your defense of us…well, it gives me hope for the future."

"As long as you remember that not all people are like me Charles." There's a hint of a smile as she says that. "There are some that will wish you harm, and you need to be ready."

"We will." Erik says, full of confidence. "I will let Charles try his diplomacy, but when it fails, and we know it will at some point…some people are too full of hatred and…evil to accept those of us who are different without trying to either control or destroy. We will defend ourselves."

"Good." She nods.

For a few seconds I can hardly believe she's agreeing with Erik, until I remember that moment in the broken plane… she'd agreed with Erik then too…

*Not only then.* Erik points out.

He directs me to a fragment of memory, it's obviously part of something larger, though we don't have time for it now, so I accept to only knowing the part he chooses to show me:

" _Well, Charles is a pacifist, and I understand that as well. Though I'm more of the 'Wish for Peace, Prepare for War', philosophy."_

That… I wasn't expecting.

*When was this?* I ask, not even trying to hide my shock.

*The day we fought Shaw, right before we left for Cuba.* He explains. *I will show you the whole conversation later if you want.*

I nod, half absently. Not exactly because of Moira agreeing with Erik, but her philosophy. It's almost like a mix of both of us… a mix that had seemed so impossible just a month ago, an impossibility that could have ruined everything, and almost did…

"Look, things are…well, not too good right now." Moira begins speaking again right then, trying to sound chipper. "And we all know it might not get any better for some time. However, I truly believe that one day the government is gonna realize how lucky they were to have Professor X and Magneto on their side. And of course, the X-Men as well."

I blink, almost having forgotten those names… even as I recall the fragments of memories I caught from her mind, both in Cuba and the day she left to face the CIA; in each and every one of them that's how we were addressed: the Professor… Magneto… as mutants, and fighters, and leaders… never just Charles and Erik… if only for that reason I definitely prefer the life I'm currently living. At least with Erik I know I will only be Charles…

Then I become aware of the other detail I just heard:

"X-Men…" I try the name out-loud, liking the sound. "I like that. And it includes you as well you know, you're a part of this team as well."

* X-Men? Really?* He asks in a drawl inside our bond. *That's sounds entirely too egocentric for you Professor X!*

I know he's just jesting, as there's no bite in his words; still, I can barely stop myself from rolling my eyes or sticking my tongue out at him like a god-damned five-year-old!

*Yes, that would be very mature of you indeed, professor…* Erik doesn't need me to do it to know, and he calls me on it. *You act so childish sometimes Charles…*

*I'm not a child!* My mind-voice even sounds petulant!

*No, you're not, I would have to be seriously sick if I wanted to do to a child the things I do to you…* His comment turned leery.

And really, will every conversation we have from now on turned to innuendo? I can barely hold back my blush, even as we both turn our attention back to Moira.

"Even if she certainly isn't your student, Professor." Erik quips, going straight back to the conversation we'd been in.

I barely notice the look he and Moira share, not really understanding what's going on until she speaks again, and it's something I could have never prepared for:

"Well, I don't know about that…" Her voice is a bit husky and she's looking up at me through her lashes in what I would call blatant seduction if it weren't because I know how accepting she is of Erik's and my relationship. "The Professor has certainly taught me a lot…"

I open my mouth to reply to the first part when I hear the second and then I'm so shocked I can't help the spluttering; it only gets worse when both of them dissolve into raucous laughter.

"You would certainly fail if you ever were a student of mine!" I stated as seriously as I can, though I'm still so shocked my voice shoots through an octave… or two.

Abruptly, her demeanor changes completely.

"Well, I hope that's not a prediction of what's to come." She says with sudden nervousness as she twists her hands a bit. "After all, I am going back to school…"

"So you're going through with it then?" Erik asks.

"That's the plan." She nods. "Of course, I still have to pass the needed exams and find a university that is willing to accept me."

"You know, I can put a good word with Oxford if you wish, and I'm sure Hank would offer the same concerning Harvard." I offer her.

I'm not quite sure what her possibilities and aspirations are, but I'm sure a good word cannot hurt, and both Hank and I have good reputation in our respective alma-mater.

"Well, thank you, I certainly would be a fool not to accept your offer, I just hope to be worthy of it." She smiles shyly as she says that.

Oh… if she could only realize the truth. If only I could tell her, could make her see everything she's done, everything she's achieved and no longer remembers… perhaps that might be the negative side of the whole thing. She did so much, and she will never know… for how can I explain to her what truly happened that day in Cuba, what she did, how she saved me, us… when she no longer knows, or even believes things like time-travel to be possible, and especially that she might have been the one to do it. She saved the world… and us, and she will never know it.

You're worth more than you'll ever know, Moira…

Who knows? Maybe one day she will know. Maybe one day she will look back on this time and realize how different her life has been from what it was in a different timeline, and not just her life, but mine, and Erik's, and so many others, and maybe, that day, she will feel proud for being the heroine… Maybe.

**xXx**

One could say that was where the true new beginning for all of us took place. With Moira once again living in Westchester, with the rest of us, we were ready to turn my dream… our dream into a reality. It was hard to believe how far we'd come since that first meeting between Moira and I in that pub in Oxford, back in May… so much had happened since. Both good and bad.

We were more than we'd been when first becoming a team, though we could never forget there was one person still missing: Darwin… We would never forget him, but it was in part because of him that we were pushing through in these plans, so no other mutant ever went through the things he did, through the things any of them did.

The time passed: days, weeks, a month… December came around, and with it the cold. Some of the inhabitants of the manor weren't used to the cold, however, they all were quite happy as the family they were beginning to become. The mix of different religions made a mess of most of the month, but it was pretty enjoyable, and I expected it to become even more hectic as we got more students and their various religions and traditions. It was sure to be interesting!

Then came the New Year… our new life was before us… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who might actually wonder about it: Charles's reading of Moira's memory was different this time (he didn't keep feeling like he was Moira), because she was actively showing it to him, meaning she was there too, as herself, so Charles was more like an outside observer. 
> 
> I have finished writing Amity (it will have 10 chapters) and am currently fighting my muse tooth and nail so I can write its sequel. Reviews actually help convince Calliope to stay on this path, and I would love if you would give me more. (I'm not holding chapters hostage for reviews, I did it in the past, not anymore, you're still getting updates every two weeks; I would just like to read more about the people who might actually be enjoying me writing this, please. 
> 
> On the next chapter: Charles wants to create a school for mutants, does he know what really goes into such a thing? Is he, and everyone else, ready for the challenge? That and more, in some ways the beginning of the end for this saga, in: Institute.


	8. Institute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the beginning of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, and things aren't as easy as some had hoped... in fact, they're much, much harder...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I put it in the tags already but I will still add it here: There is death in this chapter, of children (OCs). It is not detailed, and while I absolutely abhor it, it is necessary for the development of the story and the characters. 
> 
> There are also a couple of cameos in this fic, I couldn't help myself. If you don't recognize them, don't worry, it's not too important in the grand scheme of things.

**Chapter 8. Institute (Charles)**

Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. That's what we are going to call the school… when we finally manage to get it to open. Turns out creating a school is a lot harder than we might have expected. There are all kind of forms and regulations we have to abide to. Those pertaining to safety measures (from emergency exits to signals marking ways out, in, which rooms not to go in, etc., to fire-extinguishers, fire-alarms, emergency equipment, etc.) are easy enough to handle. The real problems come when we have to find people who actually can sign up for running a school. While it is true that a great deal of money and the Xavier name can get us far (and it is the very reason why we are putting the school under just my name and not someone else's or something else entirely) we still need at least one person who actually knows how to handle a school. Preferably a teacher… that isn't proving easy at all.

Still, we keep working on recruiting on the side. We have made teams to handle that part, and we go out depending on the case. Usually the teams are: Erik and Raven, Moira and I, or Emma and Janos, depending on the kind of person we are going after. The teams are arranged like that because, as Erik and I discovered during our first recruitment trip the previous summer, parents tended not to react too well to two men leading a school together, particularly when their child is a girl. While Moira might not be a mutant herself, her past experience as an Agent helps her when dealing with the more nervous parents; Erik and Raven are better dealing with the non-believers, though not the volatile ones, as they can't calm others the way I can; Emma and Janos are better at handling the average individuals, and if something unexpected happens Emma's telepathic abilities help.

At the moment we are working with the print-outs from the old Cerebro, while Hank works in the new one with help from Alex and Azazel sometimes. Sean and Angel also do what they can to help everyone as each find the things they felt more comfortable doing.

Angel is taking some classes to earn her high-school diploma (she had to drop out at some point in the past, before ending as a stripper in Vegas). Alex and Sean are done with High School and we are trying to convince them to at least try for an Associate's degree in the closest college, if not a Bachelor's degree. Moira, as it turns out already has a degree in Biology, she's taking some mail-classes to be up-to-date before aiming for a double Masters' degree in Biology and Chemistry, and maybe later doctorates; all of that in Harvard (as she for some reason does not want to go to Europe again).

Things don't always go well in the recruitments. We found a boy called Miles, who could understand and communicate animals. His family didn't known anything about his abilities, and after hearing him pleading mentally not to tell them anything, we gave them the public version of the story: about how we were part of the board of directors of an exclusive private school that was about to open and how Miles was in our list to be offered a spot.

There are other children like Miles. Children who are too afraid to let their families know they're able to do certain things and choose not to tell them. Erik at first thought it wasn't right for them to hide, but after a situation with a boy called Ian, whose family disowned him right in front of Erik and Raven when finding out that the boy was a mutant (he could animate things, mainly toys, for a short amount of time; not a great thing in the grand scheme of things, but still a mutation nonetheless); he stopped complaining. Ian had cried all the way to Westchester, only half-comforted by Raven's insistence that he has a new family now and will be alright.

There are all kind of cases, children and teenagers with all kind of mutations, from the most simple and apparently useless: an African-American girl called Rina can imitate the sound of any instrument through just her vocal cords after hearing it play only once; to the more extraordinary: a teenager of Asiatic ascendance called Saito can bring his drawings to life, he has trouble making them stable the farther away they were from him, and over long periods of time, but he is still experimenting with his abilities.

Also, not all the mutants we tried to recruit are children or teenagers. There are some adults left in our list. However, most of them are either too used to hiding their own mutation or simply to living the lives they have already, they just aren't interested in the school. However, we get lucky in a few cases; some that aren't interested in going to the school at least agree on sending others our way if needed; and to be in contact if we need help: like the old war veteran Sgt. Andrews, who has a gift for camouflage; while he isn't interested in the institute, he owns a Security company and gives us a big help on that part.

And yet, even with all the experiences we might have had during the first months of the year, nothing could have prepared us for what happened in April…

We are in Florida, we have in our list a girl called Naida, a preteen; I found her in Cerebro right after her mutation first manifested. Erik and Raven go looking for her as soon as they get to Jacksonville, not finding anything. Moira and I were in a nearby town, after failing to recruit a young florist called Daphne who had a low level of empathy with plants, it allowed her to help them grow more, prettier, but not much more. So the four of us go together on a second visit to the house… the moment I am in range I know something is wrong…

I am on my knees, gasping, pain assaulting me abruptly. She's screaming…god how she's screaming… and suddenly I can't move…

"Charles!" Moira cries out, confused and worried about my sudden collapse.

Erik stumbles but soon enough he manages to right himself. He too is worried about me, but I manage to reassure him enough that he turns his focus to what has caused me to collapse; something only he knows. He can hear the echo of the girl's psychic screams, and knows what it means; which gets him moving instantly.

Raven hasn't the slightest idea of what's going on, but when Erik orders her to follow him and I signal for her to obey they're off down the block. In seconds, the two are breaking down the door and rushing inside the house and up the stairs; Erik following the sense he's getting from our connection, the things I'm getting from Naida herself.

They are too late… I feel Naida die…

Moira is especially worried about me, about the way I collapsed, the pained groans I haven't been able to keep inside and then it's all so quiet…

There is the sound of glass breaking, and a body lands on the front yard, not too far from where we kneel. Moira makes to approach it but I shake my head. She guesses the man is dead and there is no point. What I will never tell her is that even if there had been any hope for him, I have doubt I would have helped him, not after what he just did to an innocent child!

Seconds later we can both hear the keen screech of metal ripping. Every pipe in the house is bursting in a matter of seconds. We both know who it is that's causing it, though only I know why. The scene that greeted Erik and Raven when they finally made it to the second floor bathroom… I can hear Raven's wails…

It takes a long time before Raven feels well enough to go on another recruitment after that; and longer before she stops having nightmares about what she witnessed there, not just the dead girl, but also the deeper meaning behind that death, the rejection, the hate, the cruelty… she knows her own family rejected her, left her on the streets to die when she was too young to even remember. I have no idea how she managed to survive on her own as long as she did, sleeping in parks or alleys, getting food from dumpsters or stealing it to survive, or sometimes shifting into innocent children of pretty girls to get others to buy things for her… until the night she found herself in the kitchen of the manor. The night that changed both of our lives forever. I will always believe we saved each other's lives that day…

I feel bad about not being able to protect her from witnessing the cruelties of the world, however, it is Erik who helps her the most:

"What they did to that girl was barbaric, monstrous…" He states in a cold, yet somehow also caring voice. "And while it may be terrible to have seen something like that… it would be worse if we stopped trying. Because what we're doing right now is fighting so no one else has to suffer, has to die, the way that girl did. Naida isn't the only mutant in the world, or the only who needs us to rescue her from families who would rather kill them than understand them. All we can do right now is try our best to make sure there are as little Naidas in this world as possible."

Moira has no idea what exactly it is they had found in that house, in that bathroom. She realizes that I do know, that I have seen it in their minds (even if no one knows about the bond between Erik and I); but just seeing Raven's reaction to the whole thing, the way Erik too seems deeply affected, is enough to make her choose not to ask.

**xXx**

It takes a while, almost two months in fact, after that tragedy for Raven to willingly choose to go on another recruitment. But eventually she decides she cannot just give up. We decide to go all four of us again. A way to change the memory of our last recruitment trip.

We travel in two cars, in case we end up returning with the child already, we will need space. Raven is delighted when Moira agrees to let her drive her car (I gave her mother's old car for Christmas, after having a trusted mechanic make sure everything was perfect, and he even boosted a few things so it will work as good as some of the newer cars). Erik and I were in my Corvette, he seems to really love the car!

That particular trip is important for all of us, as we're going to pick up the youngest mutant I saw during my use of Cerebro: she's seven-years-old and hadn't fully manifested yet when I saw her.

The coordinates from the print-out take us actually to the outskirts of the town, to a small yellow cottage with a white porch and a small garden.

"This place seems empty." Moira comments as we all step out of the cars.

"That's because it is." I cannot help but furrow my brow.

"Charles?" They all turn to me instantly.

"I cannot feel any minds here." I explain.

"The place looks dusty." Moira comments.

She's standing in the porch, doing her best to look through the sheer curtains on the window.

"I don't think anyone's lived here in a while." She adds before turning to us.

I don't say a thing, instead centering myself a bit before opening my mind, more or less like I would do with Cebrebro, only in a smaller scale. Usually something like that would be hard on me, even with the electronic anchor-of-sorts that is the machine. However, Erik, and our bond is the best anchor I could ever ask for; he keeps me centered even as I amplify my mental awareness, searching for the mind of the young child I found over half a year ago. And it's not only the anchor, he also seems to act almost like a filter, allowing me to focus individually on the 'voices' I hear without being overwhelmed by everything at the same time.

*Good I can be useful…* Erik drawls with a mental smirk.

"You think they, she, whatever, moved?" Raven suggests suddenly. "I mean, we haven't been in this kind of situation before, but it doesn't mean it's impossible. After all, the coordinates were taken last summer. People do move sometimes? And what about those who might have been on vacation, or visiting friends or family, or studying abroad…?"

"We get it Raven." I interrupt her as she begins to blab. "But I don't think that's the case."

"Why not…?" Moira begins.

"You've found her." Erik states rather than asking almost at the same time.

Of course he would know, he was following through my search.

"I found her." I nod. "Her name is Matilda, She's not far from here, about half a mile north. She's in a big, two floor country house, with her mom."

"So Raven's right, they moved?" Moira inquires.

"I don't know." I admit. "It's… Matilda is far too aware of things. What I got was from her surface thoughts, anything else and I have a feeling she would know I'm there."

"So she's a telepath too?" Raven guesses.

"I do not know." I admit once again.

It's so strange, not knowing things… and yet at the same time it makes things interesting.

We decide to leave the cars where they are and walk the relatively short distance to the other house. The place is much, much bigger than the first house, some might even call it a mansion; though nowhere near the size of our home in Westchester, as Erik mentally points out. When we get close enough we hear voices from the inside, two distinctive voices, both female, they sound playful, until the interaction is punctuated by a squeal and then a cry:

"Matilda!"

I barely manage to keep Erik and Raven from doing something extreme at the sound of the cry. I knows nothing bad is happening, I suspect we all do, but the tragedy of Naida is still too close not to react badly. Still, in the end Erik manages to keep himself to just knocking on the door. A bit forcefully, but still, nothing bad.

"One second!" We hear the same voice call.

In a short time the door opens. Standing there is a woman who's probably in her mid twenties, with light brown hair slightly curled at the tips and chocolate brown eyes. She's wearing denim overalls over a white top with the sleeves rolled up and sneakers; while her face looks flushed and a smile is gracing her face.

"Yes?" She asks, looking at all of us in wonder.

"Excuse me, Miss…" I call in the most polite tone I can. "Good morning. My name is Charles Xavier, my sister Raven Xavier and our friends Moira MacTaggert and Erik Lehnsherr, we represent a new school for gifted youngsters and are looking for Miss Matilda Wormwood."

"I am Jennifer Honey." She introduces herself politely. "And Matilda…"

"She doesn't live here!" We hear the child behind her call.

"Matilda!" The young woman at the door chides her.

"What?" The girl sounds a bit despondent but not quite rude, eventually peeking from behind the woman, looking straight at us. "I'm not Wormwood anymore, am I? The Wormwoods didn't want me, so I am not Matilda Wormwood, my name is Matilda Honey."

"We did not know that." I state, trying to appear as amiable as possible. "We would still like to talk to you my dear…" I turn to the older woman. "If that's alright with you, Ms. Honey?"

"Yes, of course." The woman nods immediately.

Jennifer Honey is the picture of politeness as she shows the four of us into the sitting room before offering us some drinks (something were thankful for as, while the walk wasn't long, it's still quite hot outside).

*So… aunt or adoptive mother?* Erik asks as we wait.

*I believe that the second.* I reply.

*Will that makes things easier, or harder for us?* He inquires next.

He doesn't go into details, but I know what he means, he's talking about the idea of taking Matilda with us.

*We do not know that's necessary yet…* I mind-say as sternly as I can.

*Just how many children have we got already whose parents either don't know or just don't want to have anything to do with them once they find out?* Erik ask, annoyed. *This will likely end up as yet another one of those cases. We will try to explain, the mother will take it badly, there will be yelling, wailing, and in the end we will take the child away…*

I don't get the chance to reply to that, someone else does for me.

"You are not taking me anywhere!" It's Matilda, and she's screaming at us from the sitting room's entrance, livid.

"Matilda…" I begin, trying to calm her down.

"Stay out of my head!" She snaps at me.

And it's as if she just physically pushed me back, though I know it's all mental.

"Matilda?" Another voice, Jennifer's, asks.

"Stay back Mom." The girl tells her, standing before her, before turning back to us. "You are not taking me anywhere! I also won't let you hurt my mom!"

"Whoever said anything about hurting anyone?" Moira asks, confused.

"They did!" The child points at us accusingly. "They were talking about taking me away! About mom not wanting me anymore! I won't let that happen!"

Suddenly objects from all around the room are floating, and then flying at great speeds. And not just the room, as I realize the moment at least a dozen knives are added to the pile of logs, a couple of fire pokers, a variety of flower bases, sculptures and knickknacks, all creating a screen separating the two Honeys from us.

"You can hear what they're thinking?!" Raven exclaims, shocked.

"Matilda, sweetheart?" I can hear the worry in the woman's voice.

Abruptly it hits me, and Erik at the same time. The woman is kneeling beside her daughter, embracing her, talking to her quietly. And she hasn't reacted at all to the fact that so many things are flying around the room.

"Not exactly." The girl shakes her head. "I don't hear words, but I can sense what they're talking about. About what I can do, and they want to take me away!"

"No one is taking you away, sweety…" Jennifer assures her.

"You know!" Erik almost cries out when he finally comes out of his shock.

The young woman finally turns to look back at us, her gaze focused on my love before glancing at everything around briefly and then back at him.

"What? This?" She asks calmly, as she gestures at everything around her. "I've known since she first learnt how to control it."

That throws us all for a loop. True, we've found people who know and accept their mutant family members before, they are rare, but they do exist; though still, most seem to be a bit nervous whenever their child is using his/her power, and unwilling to let anyone outside the family circle know anything about it. So, the Honey family is quite different from any other we might have seen before, because Jennifer Honey, while she might not have given birth to Matilda herself, certainly loves the child, enough to fully embrace her, and her gift, without a doubt.

Even without actively reading the woman's mind I can tell that she truly knew already about the girl's gifts, has for a while, and is quite calm about it. It's also at that point that I notice the javelins and the nearly dozen spheres, they look like canon bullets or something along those lines, that have joined everything else.

I realize that Moira and Raven are still too shocked by the girl's display of power, while Erik seems to be having trouble dealing with the fact that a human woman (because he knows I would have told him already if Jennifer Honey was a mutant) can take her seven year old adopted daughter floating dozens of assorted objects around their sitting room like it's an every day occurrence… and while it's something I hadn't considered before, I begin to wonder if it really is that normal for her.

In the end I decide that as the others aren't saying a word it might be better for me to do something, least we lose the chance to at least know the child.

"You're telekinetic." I say out-loud, not knowing how else to begin conversation.

"I know." Matilda responds easily.

"Did someone tell you?" I inquire, curious.

"No." She shakes her head. "I just discovered one day I could do it." She chuckles a bit before adding. "I toppled over a water pitcher that had a newt inside, it fell right on the school principal, Ms. Trunchbull. She was hysterical!" Suddenly she frowns. "I tried to tell Miss Honey what I could do… but then I couldn't do it again… So I practiced and practiced and practiced a lot, until I could call on my powers with no trouble."

"What are your limits?" I cannot help but be excited.

Truly, in all our recruitments I've found few mutants who have truly tried to train themselves in doing much of anything with their gifts. And to find someone so young (she cannot be more than seven years old!), who's gotten that far!

"I can move anything I can think about, even if I'm not seeing it, as long as I can visualize where it is." She says simply. "I can also move lots of things at once without having to focus too much on them; I just need to not forget about it. At first I needed to see the things I wanted to move, but later on I was able to just visualize. I have trouble with some of the heavier things," She signals to the 'bullets' now just rolling across the floor) "but I'm getting better."

"You have incredible power for one so young." I praise her.

"How long have you had your gift?" Moira inquires, finally getting over most of her shock.

"Mmm… about six, seven months or so, I think." Matilda answers calmly.

"In six months you've advanced this much?" Erik blanches.

"Well, most of it I managed it in the first month." The girl admits. "Though back then I never managed to do things for any long period of time and I could only push a bit the heavier things; I also had to keep eye contact with everything I moved… so I've gotten better since then."

"You've done amazing for someone so young, and especially in such a short time." I insist.

"I think you can put everything down now Matilda." Jennifer says to her daughter. "I don't think they will be doing anything to you now."

"We honestly never meant anything against Matilda, or yourself Ms. Honey." I try to reassure her. "It's just… in the past we've found children whose families aren't quite as understanding of their children's abilities as you seem to be. In a number of occasions things… well, they haven't gone well at all. Whatever young Matilda might have picked up from me or Erik's minds, I assure you we just have the best intentions concerning both of you."

"Please, call me Jenny." She stated half-absently. "You mean to tell me there are more children like Matilda out there?"

As she talks she finally steps into the sitting-room, once again carrying the tray with tall glasses full of lemonade that she'd been bringing us before the whole mess began.

"I'm not sure if there are more telekinetics, though I imagine there must be." I nod. "However, there are children, and teenagers, and adults as well, with all kind of abilities all around the world. You see, we are mutants, our DNA has mutated beyond what's usual in humans, allowing them to develop certain abilities. In Matilda's case it seems to be telekinesis, maybe a mental-awareness of sorts too; in my case… I am a telepath."

"You… you can read our minds…?" Jenny seems shocked for the first time.

"Neat!" Matilda exclaims, delighted at the whole thing, before turning to the others. "What can the rest of you do?"

Erik doesn't answer verbally, instead waving a hand and suddenly the fire pokers, the cannon balls and a few other trinkets are once again floating.

"You're telekinetic too!" Matilda says, even more excited.

"Not quite." Erik shakes his head. "I can only control metal. My gift is actually magnetism."

"I'm a shapeshifter." Raven announces before shifting from her usual blonde guise into each of us, and then allowing her disguise to drop completely, becoming blue and scaly, with red hair and amber eyes (thankfully she's still dressed). "This is what I truly look like."

Jenny's eyes widen a bit and her breathing hitches minutely; but a couple of seconds later she's back to normal and looking as calm as ever.

"It's amazing." She says, addressing both of them at the same time, before turning to Moira. "And you, Ms. MacTaggert?"

"Please, it's Moira." She smiles at the younger woman. "And I'm completely human."

"So it's not that rare for one of us to accept one of you!" Jenny exclaims, narrowing her eyes in my direction, considering what I said before.

"Actually." Moira steps in. "Aside from the two of us, two or three of my former co-workers and a handful of the families of other mutants we've found, most people don't accept it." She sighed, sadly. "And even with those who do, it's hardly a full acceptance. Some are afraid, others in denial, while others… well, let's just say we've seen some pretty bad things."

"I don't see what's so wrong about it." Jenny states. "I mean, yes, Matilda moving things around without touching them can be a bit shocking the first couple of times or so, but after that… it's her gift, it's a part of who she is, why should there be anything wrong with it?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, some people can have quite… volatile mutations." Moira admits. "Though I do believe that in most cases it's prejudice… or sometimes just people that for whatever the reason cannot, or simply refuse to even try to understand the truth…"

Jenny sighs loudly, and I suddenly get the feeling that she understand more than prejudice than one would expect at first glance.

"Miss… Jenny?" I inquire, concerned about her sudden change in demeanor.

"I'm sorry, it's just… if I understand one thing its prejudice and people refusing to see what's before their eyes…" Jenny explains, sighing.

I am curious, we all are, but none of us say a thing as we watch mother and daughter exchange a telling glance, before Matilda is sighing.

"Like you know already, I was born Matilda Wormwood." The girl begins telling her story. "I had parents, and an older brother called Michael. Things weren't… right between us. My parents never liked me, from the moment I was a little girl. I think they would have preferred it if I was more like Michael but… I'm just not like that. They were always watching TV and laughing loudly, and gossiping… and I just wasn't interested in that sort of thing. My mom was always playing Bingo and bridge with the other women in the neighborhood, and my dad… he fixed cars, but he didn't do it right. He also used a lot of stolen parts he bought from other people. The FBI caught up to him eventually. I did what I could, distracting them, not allowing them to find the stolen parts when they searched our garage, I even took the tape of the things they'd been filming that may have allowed them to get a warrant to truly check the whole house. It still wasn't enough. When the police finally came for them they decided to run away; I was actually having a snack with Miss Honey at the time. They were leaving, and I didn't want to go, so I decided I wanted Miss Honey to adopt me." She sighs. "I had actually had the idea floating in my mind for a while, but didn't dare say anything until that day. In that moment I knew it was my only chance. I could either run away with the family who never wanted me, to be further ignored and treated poorly while living god-knows-where… I could take a risk and see if the one person who'd ever showed she cared for me, cared enough to want me forever."

"And I did, I still do." Jenny assures her child, kissing her brow. "From the very first day you arrived to my class I cared for you Matilda."

"Class?" Moira is quite interested by that detail.

"Yes, I am a teacher… was… I guess I technically still am." She hesitates a bit before explaining things better. "I used to be the first-grade teacher at the local elementary school. Met Matilda last year when she first arrived to class. She actually arrived mid-term, but was so bright… I knew she should be moved ahead to make better use of her intelligence. The principal: Ms. Trunchbull, didn't agree with me."

"She was a mean woman! She didn't like kids!" Matilda hisses.

"How does a woman who doesn't like kids end up as the principal of an elementary school?" Raven asks, confused.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Jenny shrugs. "What Matilda says is true, Agatha Trunchbull was a cruel woman, abusive even. I would have known that even without any student saying a thing, as I knew the woman beforehand. You see, she's my aunt." She shakes her head. "Anyway. I didn't insist on the matter of Matilda, so she wouldn't turn against any of the children, as she'd been known to do before. At least in my class the kids knew they were safe. Weeks passed. One day the principal happened to be inspecting our class. She was being harsher than usual and then… well, Lavender, another of my students, had hidden a newt she found inside the pitcher of water. Trunchbull didn't notice when she poured herself a glass, didn't see when the newt ended in her glass…"

"Did she truly try to drink the newt?" Raven asks in disbelief.

"Not quite." Jenny shakes her head. "That's where Matilda's comments from earlier come in. The principal didn't drink the water, instead the glass at some point toppled over and the newt went flying straight at her head. It was a mess…" She sighs. "After the class was over Matilda approached me; she tried to convince me that she had done it, she had pushed the glass… I have to say I didn't believe her. I didn't see how something like that could be true."

"That was just the first or second time I did anything." Matilda pouts. "I had no control over it, so of course, when I wanted to do it consciously, I couldn't! I learnt, though."

"Yes, you did." Jenny smiles fondly at her daughter, before turning back to us and continuing the story. "Like she said, she learnt. Weeks later, and after breaking a promise not to go again to Trunchbull's house… as we'd done it once before and things had gone badly…"

"You said not to go into the house, and I didn't!" Matilda points out brightly. "I did everything from the window or the roof of the garage."

"Still, it was no less dangerous." Jenny insists, before shaking her head. "In any case, she found me one morning, before classes started. She had one of my father's chocolates (which I'd shown her before) and an old doll I hadn't been able to retrieve from my old room. You see, this place was originally my home. Then both of my parents died. Agatha Trunchbull is my aunt, she came to live with us as father's suggestion after mother died, to look after me. Then he died, the police said it'd been a suicide, though I never fully believed that. I was five at the time. Aunt Trunchbull took over everything then: the house, the money, everything. I was under her thumb for a few years until I got the courage to run away." She closes her eyes briefly to gather herself before going on. "So, I grew up and became a teacher. I'm not quite sure how I ended up working for her. It just happened. I hated that she was my boss, more for the students than for myself. But I loved being a teacher too much to leave. So I stayed. So, that day… apparently she'd found out what Matilda had done, though of course she didn't know how a child had done it. She intended to punish Matilda for 'breaking and entering'. I tried to protect her, to protect all the children and then… Matilda interfered." She smiled. "By that point she's showed me already what she could do. We'd been the first ones to the class and I knew I had to hide a lot of things, as the principal didn't like too much color, or most of the projects the kids did, or too much light in the room. I had a system to hide everything. Matilda did everything without touching anything. It was enough proof to me of the wonderful things she could do."

"What happened then?" I can see Raven is obviously enthralled by the story.

"Well, Matilda did a great impersonation of my father's ghost with some floating chalk writing things on the blackboard, using the right words thanks to certain conversations we'd had before." Jenny actually giggled slightly at that. "In the end Trunchbull was run out of the school. Mr. Trilby, the vice-principal, and I, became heads of the school. Then, almost three months ago, like Matilda already told you, her parents had to run away before the police got them and I ended up adopting her, something I do not regret, shall never regret."

She closes her eyes once more then, though I manage to see the pain flashing in them.

"What happened?" Moira asks quietly, guessing it can be nothing good.

"Things were supposed to be good after that." Matilda states grimly. "The witch was defeated, I had a mom that loved me, the school had a principal that loved the children… we should have had our happily ever after!"

"You didn't." Erik can see that but, like the rest of us, he wonders why.

"No." Jenny shakes her head sadly. "An inspector from the Department of Education visited the school recently. It didn't go well. Turns out that there had been attempts at closing the school in the past; but every time Trunchbull used my father's money for bribes and to hire thugs to intimidate others into turning a blind eye to the conditions the school was in, as well as her own treatment of the students. With her gone… well, the inspection didn't go well. Trilby and I barely managed to convince the Department to keep the school opened until the end of the school year, which was just last week. There are no other schools in town that are interested in hiring an elementary teacher. And then there's the situation with the Social workers. Turns out that they don't like single moms much, whether we're such by nature or by adoption. I honestly don't know which one would be worse at this point: a new job, at which point social services might claim I'm not taking good care of Matilda; or not getting a job at all, at which they might try to state that I don't have the means to support her and give her everything she needs! Even if I do still have most of my trust fund and what's left of my father's fortune. I can also sell the cottage if I ever need to."

For a few seconds not a single word was said. We were left just thinking about everything Jenny had just said. To think that things had been going so well, only to suddenly turn so bad… it reminded me of how badly things could have gone for us, the things Moira had said, and even those she hadn't said but I still got a glimpse of.

"Anyway, you said you were looking for Matilda." Jenny says right then, turning back to me, acting more cheery. "And considering that she believes you want to take her away, I imagine you want her to go to that new school you mentioned when you first arrived?"

"That was our original intention, yes." I nod, my mind working a mile a minute. "We are looking for young mutants right now, offering help in learning to control their powers while at the same time continuing their normal education."

All three of my companions notice the implications of what I'm saying, though only Erik knows what I'm going to say.

*You do realize you're crazy, right?* He asks, I can almost see his brow arching.

*I know.* I agree. *But you cannot tell you aren't thinking the exact same thing…*

I can sense all his doubts: she's human, and while yes, Moira is human too, we do not know Jenny, how can we trust her? … And yet, he still knows she's our best option. Besides, she has already accepted her own daughter, as well as us, and Raven! I don't think things can get any better than that.

*Just do it.* Erik says with a resigned sigh. *You know the girls are going to support you. They probably will even like the idea. Not sure how Emma and the others will take it, but it's not like it matters in the grand scheme of things. They can either get on with the program or leave.*

*And you?* I ask quietly. *Will you support me in this?*

*You know I will always support you, liebe…* He says in a soft tone. *Even with harebrained schemes like this…*

I can hear his quiet laughter as he says that, he may think I'm crazy, but he will still support me, and that's all I could ever ask for.

"Actually M… Jenny, my plan is a little different now." I say finally out-loud. "While Matilda seems to have her power well under control, I would love to see how far she can go with her telekinesis, and whether her mental awareness develops into something else eventually. With us she would also be able to continue her normal education. What's different in my plan now Jenny is that I would like you to come with us as well."

"What?" None of the ladies in the room was expecting that.

"You are a teacher Jenny, an elementary teacher even." I try to explain my idea. "Matilda may be the youngest mutant we've found thus far, but that may change in the future. We want to create a school, an institute, and for that we need teachers. And while some of us can handle teaching high-school, maybe even middle-school level… I do not think teaching elementary level children is among the talents any of us possess. But you do. I would… I'm sure all of us would love it if you were to accompany us back to Westchester and become a teacher at the Institute."

Moira and Raven, who finally understand my plan, immediately begin nodding like crazy, I can feel the giddiness they're both giving off.

"Let me see if I understand this." Jenny states, slowly, as if not fully understanding yet. "You not only want my daughter… you want both of us. Matilda as one of your students, and me as a teacher. Is that right?"

"That is right." I nod, then add. "We might even be able to help you with your social workers situation. The older brother of one of our to-be-students is a lawyer, and even if he doesn't specialize in family cases I'm sure he will know someone who does."

"You want to help me, help us, just because Matilda is a mutant?" Jenny seems to still have trouble understanding the offer.

"And you're a teacher." I remind her. "You will be helping us greatly if you agree to become the elementary teacher at the Institute; and if you help us getting all the papers in order so we can actually open as a school."

I need her to understand just how much we truly need her. I hear Erik rumbling in the back of my mind, he thinks I'm giving away too much, that Jenny will use that information to try and have an advantage over us; but he's not seeing her the way I do, colored by the tones her mind seems to be painted in. Jennifer Honey is just too kind, too gentle and caring to do something like that. She cares for her child, just like she cares for every child she ever taught; just like I know she will care for any mutant child we might put under her care. A human teacher in charge of a class full of mutants! It's perfect, it's almost poetic even! What better way to teach the generations to come about tolerance, respect, acceptance…

*True.* Erik agrees reluctantly. *But who teaches the other side?*

*We will.* I respond. *Only we will teach the adults first, so they can teach the younger generations afterwards. Also, we begin with the staff and the students we have now, teaching their human families tolerance, acceptance, unity… Maybe if those families that are still in denial or rejecting their kids, see other humans willing to accept and embrace this changes, they will find in themselves the will to do the same. Jennifer Honey could very well be the beginning of a new world, a better world… for all of us.*

I can tell he isn't fully convinced yet; but he'd promised to support me already, and maybe, just maybe, a part of him wants to believe that the kind of utopia I dream of is truly possible… I can only hope… Jenny is part of that hope.

"I will do it." She announces right then.

I can tell that she realizes just how hard her job will be. Not just taking charge of the elementary level of our Institute, but also coordinating the Institute as a whole; and then being a human teaching mutants, in a household that will be filled mostly by mutants. Still, none of those hardships seem to be enough to make her back down. She's made up her mind. She's decided already that the Institute is the best option for Matilda, even if not to control her powers, to be in an environment where she can use them freely, without fear, and surrounded by people who will understand her. After that, Jenny is quite willing to take on almost any challenge as long as it allows her to remain by her daughter's side. She truly is one hell of a mom.

**xXx**

We have lunch all together. Jenny's a marvelous cook, and it is dazzling watching mother and daughter work together, particularly with how Matilda does almost everything with her powers (she says it's the only way she can help her mom, as girls her age shouldn't use knives because they are in danger of cutting themselves, but if she uses her powers there's no danger at all).

The afternoon is spent with the two packing everything they need in as few suitcases as possible. Matilda only agrees to take the smallest amount of books possible when I promise her there is a huge library in Westchester and she can read any books she wants (something tells me she will have read them all in a relatively short time, the girl's simply a genius).

We spend the night in spare rooms in the Honey home, with the two women's things already packed and waiting by the porch. Jenny doesn't even blink an eye when assigning Raven and Moira each their own bedrooms, only to then inform Erik and I which one we'll be sharing.

"You know." Erik blurts out, not even knowing he's saying it out loud until it's too late.

"That you're together?" She asks calmly. "Yes, I know. Matilda told me."

At that we both turn to the girl in question, who's looking quite nervous all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaims. "I didn't know it was a secret!"

"It's not, not really." I sigh. "Our friends know, though it's definitely not something we tend to share with most of our students, or their families for… well, obvious reasons really."

Yes, gay relationships are still illegal, no matter how open minded our friends might be.

"Well, I admit it seems a bit odd to me, though not really bad." Jenny admits, pensively. "I guess that, in the end, everyone is entitled to their preferences. As long as your choices do not affect me or the children under your care why should I can who you choose to share your life with?"

I cannot help but smile yet again. Truly, if all the humans could be like Jenny and Moira we would have a better hope for our futures… maybe one day we will.

"Well, if that's all." She declares, still smiling. "Good night then."

Good night indeed, and it will be a good day, I'm sure… as long as the others don't blow a gasket at a human teaching mutants… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are wondering, yes, the Honeys will have their importance in the sequels. Matilda more so than Jenny, though the teacher will have her part to play. It's all planned out. Whether you watched the movie "Matilda" (1996) or not, does not matter, their story has been told here already, with my own variation to the ending. 
> 
> Next chapter: Some of the events in this chapter from Erik's point of view, another cameo (not telling who, though you can try and guess) and the aftermath of Jenny becoming a teacher at the institute. Also, more love between our favorite couple! Surrender...


	9. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's past is a heavy burden, but one he doesn't have to carry alone. All he has to do is trust... let go... surrender...

**Chapter 9. Surrender (Erik)**

I begin 1963 with feelings I cannot remember feeling in more than half my life: Hope, Joy, Contentment… Most of the manor's inhabitants are in the TV room, sharing one bottle of champagne Charles allows them to drink (even though a number of them aren't 21 yet), and having fun. Charles and I are on our bed, slowly making love. While I am all for passionate fucking on any surface available, there's something about truly making love slowly with Charles… the way he falls apart in my arms, and the way I feel as if I were unraveling… the sense of belonging, of partnership, the perfection of the moment is just breathtaking…

December was an absolute mess, with the children trying to combine traditions of very different religions (and I have no idea how they found out I'm Jew, I certainly never told them… though Charles might have, the meddling fool… my meddling fool, but anyway). Still, I have to give it to them, as many mistakes as they might have made, they tried, and they did it in no small part for me. Just like they did that lunch on my birthday and then somehow managed to keep themselves from trying to hug me or something (and how they kept Raven back from doing exactly that, I have no idea).

The new year has us all moving forward in our plans for the creation of the Institute. Charles tries for almost a full week to convince me to add my name to the Institute's, saying it's as much mine as it is his. It takes that long for me to make him realize how dangerous it would be to add my name to anything. Even if Moira took all the records the CIA had gathered, even if both Charles and Emma together did a remarkable job occluding or at least confounding any and all memories those part of the Agency might have of us, I am still known in certain circles: as a Nazi Hunter, a mercenary, an assassin… not the kind of name we want to have associated with a place that is supposed to represent a safe haven.

So, my name is not in the school, but that doesn't stop Charles from wanting me to be a part of every step that's taken. Sadly that includes battling with mountains of paperwork that must be filled if we want the Institute to be completely legit. I work closely with the team of contractors in charge of doing the additions and changes necessary to turn the estate into a proper school (that includes basketball court, a tennis court, a swimming pool, track, a bigger parking lot, and of course making good part of the manor wheelchair-friendly, just in case). Meanwhile others are working on making sure one full wing of the manor (the one with the most bedrooms, all of them empty) is turned into what will be the dorms for the students; while another with offices and spare-rooms becomes the actual school area, with classrooms, labs and such (except for the basement level, which houses Hank's labs). Our wing remains unchanged, though we make sure we're all occupying two floors, leaving the other ones for the teachers we will be hiring and other staff. The last wing is left untouched, waiting for when we need the space (it's mostly spare bedrooms, and a few sitting rooms); and of course, the ground level is all common areas.

I can see Charles growing more and more stressed out as we are unable to fulfill all the detailed requirements for new school, particularly one that is supposed to cater to children on all levels from elementary to high-school (and it is necessary, as Charles can still remember children and teenagers all mutants who may need our help).

I first propose the idea of going recruiting as a way to get Charles away from his office and the mountains of paperwork that seem to keep growing rather than diminishing as the days pass. Charles likes the idea, though I can see in his mind that he's also thinking how necessary it all is not only to get the students, but also those who will be helping us as teachers… and we shall be teachers… that is a novel concept!

"You want us to teach?!" Alex, Sean and Angel cried out at the same time.

"Are you crazy Charles?" Raven inquired in turn.

"That's debatable…" I murmured under my breath, though loud enough to be heard by most.

"I know none of us really studied for this." Charles argued. "But I trust we can do it…"

"You can do it!" Raven retorts. "You've done it before, in Oxford! But me? It was enough of a miracle that I finished high-school!"

"That is not true and you know it." Charles reminded her. "You forget I know exactly how high your IQ is… you're not stupid Raven, just rather disinterested."

That caught my attention as I wondered, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one, just how high Raven's IQ was. We all knew already that Charles was a genius, after all: three doctorates at 25? That was just crazy! Then there was Hank and his own doctorate at 17… but anyway! I still wondered, if Raven was bright, and there was no doubt that if Charles said it, it was true; why hadn't she gone to college.

"Still." She shook her head. "You know how much I hate all-girls' schools, and the bigotry everyone seems to have about women wanting to study for a career… also, who says I won't have trouble with this…?" she waves at her own blue skin. "I may want very much to be a nurse, but I certainly don't want to end up becoming a lab rat instead!"

"We would never let anything happen to you Raven." Hank stated seriously.

She just looked at him with an expression I couldn't quite make out. I knew that McCoy had tried to make up with her many times since Cuba, but Raven had just been too hurt. I do not know the details, only that it's somehow connected with the boy's insane obsession with looking human and an experiment on his that somehow backfired and instead made him blue and furry. Charles doesn't tell me the details, claiming it's Raven's and Hank's business, not ours, and I'm willing to let the matter rest as long as it doesn't compromise our work.

In the end Charles, somehow, manages to convince us to become teachers, at least for a while, for the teenaged mutants (which were expected to be most of our future students). Azazel will be teaching history and geography, as he knows most on those topics; Janos surprisingly offered to teach Spanish as a language elective as well as Arts; Emma will be teaching English and, surprisingly, Math (she took offense to everyone's surprise, as it turns out, she was the one in charge of administrating Shaw's assets); Raven offers to teach basic health care and first aid (as she has taken courses on such) as well as meditation (which will help others control their powers, as it certainly helps her), and also helping with the younger kids when necessary; Hank takes on the sciences (biology, chemistry and physics, all to be taught on a basic level, though Raven does offer to help with biology); while Charles shall teach things like Ethics, Morals, basic psychology and such; I am left with teaching other language electives (I know a good number of languages) and Physical Education. In the end it is also decided that Angel, Sean and Alex may assist when necessary, though mainly we all wish for them to go to college, Raven the same (if/when we find a way for her to be able to study what she wants without putting herself in danger).

After that point we get organized in pairs to keep the work and officially begin the recruitment. Mostly I do that with Raven. Charles and I discovered during our road-trip last summer that most people, especially parents of young mutants, aren't too comfortable with two men wanting to take their child away, it's even worse when the child in question is a girl. So it is better if we go in pairs of man/woman.

Our biggest find is a group of preteens, almost half a dozen, they're living on their own, in the streets of Detroit, Michigan. Jack, Gus, Fred, Lacey and Johnny; those are their names. They used to be foster children, until they were kicked out of their homes (some lived together, some not) when the parents refused to keep in their homes 'freaks'. It takes Raven and I a long time to get the children to trust us enough to even talk to us. In fact, it isn't until Raven shares with them her own story, as a child living on the streets when she was five, all alone, stealing and running, until one rainy night when she broke into Charles's kitchen and never had to go away again…

"And if you come with us to Westchester…" She says to them. "I promise you, you never have to go away either. It will become your home, we will be your family…"

Eventually they accept. As it turns out Lacey and Johnny are both sick, have been for a while; the sixth member of their group: Mandy, had been sick as well, and finally passed away the week before, when the others were unable to find anything to help her… I curse not having made it to them sooner, we might have been able to save her. Raven just says it's the cruel reality of children on the streets:

"You feel for these children, but do you have any idea just how many children live on the streets?" She asks softly. "Too many to count, I'm sure. And most of them aren't mutants, they're human. They end up on the streets because their families don't want them, they aren't freaks, but their families are still as cruel as the ones that kicked them away." She signals to the five we're helping. "I know, I've been there. I met dozens of children and adults living on the streets in the time before I found Charles. Like I said, most of them are human, and as such, they don't have any gifts that might help them survive. Most die the first winter on the streets, that is, if they haven't died before of some sickness, malnutrition, or even some vandal going around hurting people just because they can."

I can hear the pain in her voice, as she remembers that life. It doesn't matter if it's been almost twenty years since she lived it; it's still as fresh in her mind as it's ever been; it will always be. And yet, her memories don't only carry pain, they also carry hope, love, joy; all three positive emotions connected to the same person: Charles.

The 'freakies', as they insist on calling themselves, is the first group of children to be brought back to Westchester, and yet, even when others arrive, they still keep just to their tightly knit group; too used to depending on no one but themselves. Charles believes that, in time, they will calm, will grow to accept Westchester as their home, and all of us as their family; in time they will trust us.

And yet, the freakies' case isn't the worse we get to see… No, there are others, one particularly much, much worse, that we get to see two months later:

I've seen a lot of awful thing in my life, how could I not, I spent a year in Auschwitz; my mother was shot to death with me in the room; I had to see my father being beaten day in and day out as Schmidt kept trying to force my powers out of me; I also had to watch all the people, the Jews, my people, being abused, tortured, killed…

Still, somehow, nothing will ever be able to compare to the scene that greeted us that day, in that second floor bathroom. That of a twelve-year-old with long hair the color of the waves in the sea… those same locks floating just beneath the water that fills the bathtub; they're slightly frizzed, and the reason can be seen a second later; by her feet, there's a hairdryer… They electrocuted her. The people in that bathroom, murdered a young, innocent girl, just because she wasn't human…

"Bastarde (Bastards)!" I'm cursing everyone in thick German before I'm even fully conscious of what I'm doing or saying. "Ermordung Bastarde (Murderous Bastards)!"

Raven wails at the top of her lungs, her blonde façade dropping at her distress. The people all around are screaming, but we don't care. What they've done is such a crime… Mystique reacts on pure instinct as one of the men tries to attack her she spins, delivering a roundhouse kick to his head with enough force to throw him against a wall, his head shattering a mirror. There is blood flowing from the back of his head but none of us care. They are murderers, every single one of them, turn about is only fair play.

When a woman turns a knife against me I just wave my hand, turning the weapon against her; before using my power to push the last man (who's about to tackle Raven) with enough force to make him crash through the window and out the front yard.

Raven's wails keep echoing throughout the bathroom, but I don't say a thing about them. Her reaction is only natural. I take one more look at the dead child, and right then, as if by design, the locks of hair move enough for me to see her face. She doesn't look afraid in the slightest, no, instead she looks… oddly peaceful. I wonder if she did not know death was coming. Did she not see… whoever it was that threw the hairdryer into the bathtub? From the marking I can see on the sides of her neck, gills from the look of things, being underwater was nothing for her; it might have even been necessary, for all I know. So, did she not see her murderer coming? Or maybe, just maybe, she did know… maybe she did know and just accepted it. Accepted the out of a situation she believed to be endless, the one escape she saw from the hell her life had become… like so many others I saw in Auschwitz…

Raven and I step out the house right as the flames are beginning to be seen through the second kitchen windows. We began a fire there, making sure not to leave anything that could be traced back to us. The fire will reach the gas tank in a few minutes and the whole house will blow up.

"I had one of the neighbors place a call to the fire department." Charles tells me quietly. "They are all evacuating, though I don't think the fire will expand. Also, it's about to begin raining…"

"Will the fire last long enough to erase all proof of what happened here?" I ask directly.

"The explosion should be enough." Charles answered, still softly. "The fire-fighters won't get here in time to stop that."

I nod. We cannot take Naida away. How would we explain it? And what would we even do with her body? No, the best we could do was punish those that stole her life for no reason other than her having been born different. She's resting at peace now, and I truly hope that if there is such a thing as an after-life, that peace is something those bastards will never get to experience.

Back in Westchester, Moira knows something big happened inside that house, she realizes Charles knows, and yet she doesn't make a single question. Instead she simply says something about leaving the two of us alone before going after Raven. Later on that night, when I peek inside Raven's room, I find her curled up with her head on Moira's chest, asleep, traces of heavy crying still on her blue face.

The next few weeks follow more or less the same pattern. Moira never asks any questions, to any of us; and after a serious conversation between her and the children, neither do they. They just stand there for us, though Moira especially, for Raven.

That innocent child's death has hit me pretty hard too, though Charles is the only one to notice, as I keep my emotions reigned tight, and even he notices that I'm not ready to share yet. But how can I? How can I share things I do my best not to think about most of the time? Things that still hurt as much today as they did nine years ago…?

It all comes to a head eventually, though I'm actually surprised it didn't happen before. We haven't gone on a single recruitment trip since Naida, and while I truly understand how traumatic the experience was for Raven, and for Charles (he had to feel the girl die!), I cannot help but think on the countless other children who are in danger, who may die if we don't get to them in time… if we're too late, like we were with Naida…

"What they did to that girl was barbaric, monstrous…" I finally tell Raven one day, trying to be firm yet understanding at the same time, and not to let my emotions take me over. "And while it may be terrible to have seen something like that… it would be worse if we stopped trying. Because what we're doing right now is fighting so no one else has to suffer, has to die, the way that girl did. Naida isn't the only mutant in the world, or the only who needs us to rescue her from families who would rather kill them than understand them. All we can do right now is try our best to make sure there are as little Naidas in this world as possible."

Raven gets the message. I can practically see as she steels herself. She will never forget the tragedy we bore witness to that day… but saving other children, making sure others do not suffer what she did, might just be enough to help us move on, might allow us to believe that we're actually doing a difference, we're doing good, in this world.

And so, just a week later we're off again, all four of us, this time to New Jersey, to find the youngest mutant in Charles's list: seven-year-old, Matilda Wormwood.

**xXx**

To say that the meeting with Matilda didn't go as planned would probably be the understatement of the century. Though the biggest shock wasn't her (even though the fact that she turned out to be a seven-year-old telekinetic that seemed to have her power completely mastered already, all she had left to gain was experience, was shocking enough) as much as her adoptive mother. Jennifer Honey is a woman like I never imagined finding, not in all my life.

Granted, Moira is already big enough of a surprise, being a human, and what's more, a CIA Agent, who accepted mutants, accepted all of us as if we were perfectly normal. But Jennifer… she adopted a mutant girl, knowing perfectly well what she is, what she can do. She stood in the entrance to her own sitting room, watching all kind of objects, including knives, fire poker, and such; she just stood there, watching everything that was happening, and then calmly knelt beside her daughter and proceeded to calm her down. No screaming, no running, no denial, or cursing, or calling the child possessed, a demon, a monster, or any other expletive I've heard time and again. No, Jennifer Honey knelt beside her daughter, embraced her, told her she loved her and always would…

That was just the first of the surprises that woman was bound to give me.

When Charles makes the sudden decision to offer her a position as a teacher in the Institute I think he's absolutely crazy. And yet, at the same time it feels right, Of course I don't tell him the last part, just stating I will support him, and that I'm sure the girls will be alright with his choice; I think he knows how I really feel about things anyway.

So Jennifer Honey accepts to become the teacher we're missing (to handle elementary aged children) as well as give us a hand dealing with the administrative side of our venture. I really, really hope Emma, Janos and Azazel won't turn the whole idea into a disaster.

Then, the last shock of the day, and one I could have never expected. Jennifer knows that Charles and I are in a relationship, and she doesn't even bat an eyelash at it. Apparently Matilda picked up on it with her secondary power (which not even Charles knows what it might be, aside from a certain mental awareness), she told her mom, obviously. Jennifer Honey states that everyone is entitled to their preferences as long as she, or the children do not end up affected. Such open-mindedness, like I've never before seen in anyone other than the children (and we're all mutant, different already) and Moira (but really, that woman is a whole other thing, even if she doesn't remember most of it anymore).

The next day we get back to Westchester. New Jersey isn't that far away, really. When we arrive some of the children are outside, playing. At some point Azazel teleports just inches away from us. It's just thanks to my powers that we don't crash into him, really, not even Charles has the reflexes necessary to stop that abruptly.

Behind us, still in the car, I hear Jenny cry out.

*Guess it was too much to ask for that she would react to Azazel as well as she did to Raven, huh?* I ask mentally, even in my mind I cannot help the sarcasm.

*I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Erik.* Charles admonishes me gently.

Right then Jenny rushes the length of the Corvette, Matilda on her toes. They're the first to reach where Azazel is standing, a bunch of children less than two feet away.

"Are you alright?" The human woman asks. "Both of you?"

I have to do a double-take as I realize she's asking Azazel if he's alright; and then, as she second question fully registers in my mind I can see something I somehow didn't at first: Azazel is holding Troy in his arms. The nine-year-old (though he's so severely malnourished he looks even smaller than Matilda) is the youngest mutant already in the house, he's blind, though his ability gives him a sense that is like that of a bat, allowing him to find his way around through a sort of radar. It's quite obvious that he didn't know the cars were coming, his sense didn't pick up on the vehicles as he was running. If Azazel hadn't teleported in the nick of time and gotten a hold of him, and if I hadn't forced the Corvette to stop abruptly, we might have hit him… I didn't see any of that, yet somehow Jennifer did, that's why she screamed. Because of the boy we almost ran over, not Azazel's looks… it's official, Jennifer Honey is abnormal.

I can hear Charles laughing rather loudly in the back of my mind.

*Shut it Charles.* I mentally hiss at him.

*You have to admit this whole thing makes our old discussion of humans and mutants rather pointless.* Charles points out. *Even if Jenny and Moira are bright examples of a minority rather than the majority of humans… they're still a hope that acceptance, respect, integration, are all possible in the future.*

I think Charles is still being a bit too idealistic… but it's not like he doesn't realize how hard it'll be for that dream to become true. So I let it go… even as a small (but still existing) part of me cannot help but wish his dream might come true one day.

**xXx**

Jenny's introduction into life at Westchester, and especially as part of the Institute goes without a hitch (for the most part. Truth is that aside from Emma's negativity and Angel's and some of the children's reservations (after all the rejection they've faced from humans in their lives, it's quite an understandable emotion), things go pretty well. Azazel was completely convinced the moment Jenny stood before him, talking to him calmly, her voice never wavering, and her eyes not even once straying to look at his red body, or his tail, nothing at all. And of course, the children will warm up to her in time, she truly seems like the proverbial teacher.

I watch for days as Jenny works on getting the children's trust, while Charles and Moira work the finishing touches on getting everything ready to officially open the Institute in September. While she may no longer work for the government, and he may be a bit out of his depth, away from Oxford and the undergrad classes in genetics and biology he usually teaches; they work well together, especially when so focused on something we all want so much.

I think Charles to be distracted enough on his work not to notice it when I ask Azazel for his help in making a trip. And yet, I'm wrong, the second before we're off I cannot help but feel the sharp flash of fear that Charles feels, fear of abandonment, of betrayal… and I thought I had already laid those fears to rest! It's too late to do anything about them, as we're already gone.

Still, I don't plan to stay away, I never did. Which is how, an hour later, both Azazel and I are back in Westchester. With a grateful nod for him I'm off for the manor, a metal box floating behind me. I seek Charles through the bond but I get nothing more than vague awareness of him. He's with Jenny and Moira, working on the curriculum, schedules, making a list of the books and various materials they will need to order during the summer. I know Charles is aware of my return, but he doesn't say a word about it, just continuing his duty.

That night is the first I go to bed alone. As Charles is still working in his study when I decide to retire, he dismisses me from his study with just a faint message of 'don't wait up for me…' I cannot help but wonder if he's even planning on coming to bed. He does actually, though I only find out because he cannot help but wake me up when he's getting off the bed, way too early in the morning for it to be normal. I get a vague sense of 'nightmare' from him, but he's keeping the bond too controlled for me to pick up much more than that. It's not closed, like he did that time he broke down months ago, but still close enough to that to make me very uncomfortable.

During breakfast everyone notices something is going on, though none of them say a thing. Instead they just take obviously careful looks at each of us, before looking away in a hurry. The same thing happens during the whole morning, and then lunch. In the end, it's Moira who confronts me, at mid-afternoon.

"Look." She says, before I can say a thing. "I have no idea what happened between you and Charles, and I don't care to know either. There's just one thing I need to say. I know that, despite Charles never erasing my mind, there are things I have forgotten, for whatever the reason. But if there's one thing that's quite clear in my mind, it's what I thought the first time I say you and Charles together, and truly saw you in that context. It was the first night we spent here in Westchester, in fact. You were playing chess, I wanted to talk to Charles, no idea what I wanted to say, but it doesn't matter either, I opened the door, but before I said a word I noticed you were there, the both of you were talking. And suddenly, I saw it. I saw the looks you kept throwing to each other, looking away before the other would notice. I'm trained to read body language as clearly as I would do words on a paper. It was… there was an attraction between the two of you, and it was more than sexual, more than a matter of mutations. I knew in that moment, that you were meant to be together." She sighs. "I don't think it's any secret that I was attracted to Charles at one point. I still am, on a sense. However, I know the difference between respect, infatuation, admiration, and love… and what the two of you have, is love. Whatever it is that happened between the two of you yesterday… well, I doubt a mistake, or a misunderstanding, or whatever the hell it might be, is worth destroying what is between the two of you…" She shook her head. "Actually, scratch that, I doubt what's between the two of you can truly be destroyed, no matter what happens… but still, I hope you understand what I'm trying to say."

"I do." I assure her, and truly, I do.

Which is why, the moment she leaves, I go straight to Charles's office. He's working with Jenny once again, and while I know what they're doing is important, I cannot allow the distance between us to continue. Not over a mistake and a misunderstanding.

"Excuse me Jenny." I say nodding at her. "I'm afraid you will have to do without Charles today."

"What?" He seems honestly surprised by that. "Erik, I'm working here!"

"I know." I nod at Jenny once again, before pulling Charles away from his things.

"That's quite alright." The teacher assures us, a knowing glint in her eyes. "We're ahead of where I thought we would be at this point. I will go spend some time with the children." She leaves the room ahead of the two of us. "See ya later, Charles, Erik."

"This is important Erik!" Charles hisses at me.

"This is as well, come on." I say, allowing for no refusal on his part.

In the end Charles stops resisting, following me to my room. While I have spent every night since our return from Cuba with him, and most of my things have found their way there in the months that have passed; some things still remain in my old room. The box I retrieved with Azazel's help being one of them.

There's so much I'm just not ready to share, not because of Charles, because he's wonderful; they're just things that hurt too much for me to share them. And yet… Charles deserves to know, he deserves to realize why I sometimes act the way I do. And especially, I need him not to be afraid that I will leave him at any moment…

I half-absently lock the door after entering the room. Charles says nothing, though I can tell his attention is almost pulled to the metal box the moment we're both inside. Silently I bring out two of the objects inside: a long white candle and a lighter. Turning my back on Charles, and praying that what I'm going to do will go well, I carefully light the candle, whispering a low prayer in Yiddish before placing it on the table in front of me.

"A Yahrzeit candle…" Charles breathes.

I know he picked that up from my mind, as I was practically shouting the name of what I was doing. I needed him to know, yet couldn't bring myself to say it out-loud.

"Who…? What…?" He's shocked, more than I've ever seen him.

"I didn't observe the tradition in the right date." I clarify. "I should have been doing it in April. But back then we were all focusing on what happened with Naida, and Raven's reaction and… and I just couldn't think about this. Didn't want to. But now…" I sigh, finally turning to face my lover straight on the face. "Yesterday, when I asked Azazel to help me, when I left… it was never my intent to leave you, not truly. But if I'm going to live here, I needed to retrieve certain things. Things I'd kept in storage for years… I didn't tell you because if you knew what I was doing, the importance of moving all my things to this house, you would want to come, would want to help me… and this was something I needed to do on my own."

"I would have understood." He says quietly.

"I know, the problem wasn't you, it was me." I say, chuckling deprecatingly at how predictable and stupid that sounds. "I wasn't sure I was ready to face this, to face you with this…"

"You know you don't have to tell me, right?" Charles interrupts, placing a careful hand on my cheek. "I… we're all entitled to our secrets. I know I can be a bit nosy at times, but I promise you I'm capable of staying away from your business."

"That's just it, they're not my business, they're ours, because we're together." I insist. "You have a right to know, I just didn't know if I could face it." I sigh yet again. "And then… then I felt your fear, fear that I was leaving you… and it broke me. It made me realize that no matter how many times I tell you I won't leave, that I can't… words aren't enough." I raise my hand before he can express some kind of denial, or worse, an apology. "I guess it's only fair if I say I'm still afraid you will one day see something in my mind that will finally make you want to leave."

"Oh Erik…"

"And yet, I know that this relationship cannot work unless we're honest, so here it is." I signal to the candle on the table. "As you know already, that's a Yahrzeit candle… and no, it's not for my mother, the time for that one will come, just not yet…" I feel my throat closing, I just don't know how to say it all.

*You know we do not need to talk, just think, feel, I will know.* Charles whispers in my mind.

I suddenly feel like a man drowning, loosing myself in the sea of thoughts, of feelings, or primordial goodness that is Charles. The bond is once again fully opened and I suddenly feel a strength I didn't have even a second ago. Charles is my strength… of course, I knew that already, but this experience has served as a rather painful confirmation.

*Did you know it's been a year and a week since we met?* Charles comment seems to come out of nowhere, almost.

*I know.* Of course I know, we took care to celebrate the date with a long night of slow, tender almost languorous sex.

*Last year I didn't know you very well at this point.* Charles explains wistfully. *I had the arrogance to say I'd seen everything in your mind, yet I know that's not true. And yet… it's only now that I'm beginning to see just how little I actually saw… how little I actually knew back then, and even now…*

*Oh Charles…* I kiss him, not knowing what else to do, how else to show him how much I love him still, and always will.

We stay there for a few, very long minutes; just embracing, with the 24-hour candle beginning to burn behind me, while the light of the setting sun filters through the half-closed curtains. Then, after what seems like forever, I take Charles's hand again and guide him to the bed, sitting both of us in such a way we can talk, while at the same time keeping the candle in our line of sight.

"She would have been fourteen tomorrow." I finally let out. "She would have been… instead she died one day in April, months before she would have turned five."

"Who Erik?" Charles is equally vocal in his question, sensing I need to actually say and hear things out-loud, make them real.

"My Anya…" I state. "My daughter…"

I can sense Charles's shock, but he doesn't say a word as I silently pull a small, old and somewhat damaged drawing from my pocket. It's one of very few drawings I've ever used color on, but I had to, to preserve the details I feared I might forget one day: like the auburn shade of the perfect curls surrounding my little girl's peach-skinned perfectly rounded head, or the almond shape of her blue-green eyes, so full of mischief, and hope…

"Daughter…?" Charles gasps, finally, out-loud, as he outlines the drawing with careful fingers. "Erik, I had no idea…"

"I know." I nod. "When you saw into my mind, that night off the coast of Miami… I had been hunting Nazis for eight years, it honestly was all I thought most of the time. So it's only obvious that it would be what you would pick up on, that, and Shaw…Schmidt…" I shake my head. "And yet, there were nine more years between one and the other…"

"Erik…"

"Sh…" I place a hand on his mouth. "Let me say this. I need to say it. I might not have the courage to, later on." I take a deep breath, and dive straight into the story. "On 1945, as the Allies finally began to steadily defeat the Nazis… things got rough. People in Auschwitz knew the end was coming. For the Jews it meant salvation, for the Nazis the exact opposite, for Shaw… well, lets just say we decided to cut his losses." I shake my head. "I don't think he ever expected me to refuse to go with him. He was so sure he had me… after all his experiments, his tortures, and the work he had me do as a Sonderkomando the rest of the time… he somehow still didn't know me." My chuckle has a cynical tint and I know it. "Magda was… she was light, and hope… the belief that things would get better one day. She was Romani, I knew her before the camps, before the Ghettos, I loved her. It was a child's love, I know, but still, in a place as dark as the camps, having lost my mother and father already, that was the only love I had left, and I clung to it with all the strength I had. I hated having to be a Sonderkomando… until the day it allowed me to save Magda from the Gas Chambers. I somehow managed to keep her hidden, feed her just enough so she wouldn't die on me. And then… the day before the Allies were expected to arrive, as Schmidt was preparing to flee. He wanted me to go with him, but I wasn't about to go without Magda. He discovered her…" I shudder. "In that one instant, I saw the look on his face, the very same I'd seen once before, when two soldiers escorted mother inside that small office where I was already standing with him. I knew he was going to use her, use her and then take her away from me. I couldn't allow that. So I attacked him. I knew it wouldn't be enough, no way, but I still did. In the end it gave us enough time to run."

I cannot help it, as I talk… I'm pretty much reliving things, and I know that because of our bond, Charles is seeing those memories inside his own mind as clearly as I am. I should hate that, should hate being so vulnerable, so transparent to him… yet I don't. I don't because I want to be that transparent, I want him to know… everything.

"We ran for three years." I continue. "Never staying long anywhere. We couldn't, it was too dangerous. What if Schmidt found us? What if some other Nazi found us?" I sigh. "Magda and I got married at some point during our travels…" I stop as I turn to look at Charles straight in the eye. "You need to understand… my love for her, it was nothing like what I feel for you. There's just no comparison. And yet…"

"It was all you had." He finishes for me.

He kisses me on the mouth, a chaste yet long, tender kiss. A reassurance that he knows, that he understands, that he still loves me… it's all I could have ever wished. And yet, I'm not done.

"We had to stop moving around so much when she became pregnant." I continue. "We joined a caravan of gypsies. Her people… I think they always knew I wasn't one of them, but Magda helped me fit in, and they never asked too many questions. Magda gave birth to our daughter the 1st of July of 1949. It was the end and the beginning. The end of years running, of the fear, of the darkness… it was the beginning of a new life, of hopes and dreams, and so much more… I was 18 going on 19, not a strange age to become a parent in the time and place, and the stay in Auschwitz had aged me, aged Magda and I both. Anya made everything worth it somehow, our little daughter, our hope for a better future." I sigh. "We stayed with the caravan for almost four years. Moving from place to place with the seasons. It was a good life, but I wanted more, for my family, and for myself. It took some effort but I eventually convinced Magda to leave the caravan and install ourselves in a town. We did so in a small place in Ukraine. I began working in a mine. It was hard work, but my abilities helped, and the fact that mining was the main activity there allowed for good things. I didn't earn that much, just enough to rent a room in the local hostel and for Magda to buy groceries, clothes and medicines with the needed regularity. Still, it was a good life. Sometimes Magda would embroider or sew, earn us some extra money and we would get something especial, like a small treat in our birthdays, or the anniversary, things like that. Then, in the spring of 1954, everything went to Hell."

I feel like my throat is closing. I don't want to say what we both know, to a level, is coming next. I don't want to even think about it, and yet… both Charles and I know it needs to be done. I need to, finally, move on. And to do that, I first have to face the tragedy that happened that day.

"The mine hadn't been doing very well lately." I explain. "We kept finding less and less. I tried not to call too much attention, yet found myself using my abilities more and more, so I could at least bring enough to get the money I needed. My boss grew suspicious. He became convinced that I was cheating him somehow. Maybe stealing from him, or from another miner. He refused to pay me everything, claiming it was impossible that I could find that much when everyone else had brought in less than half that amount. I honestly hadn't noticed how bad things had gotten until then. I tried to use whatever excuse possible, but he didn't care, he simply wasn't going to pay me…" I shudder violently. "I couldn't think in that moment… what was I supposed to do? How could I face my wife and daughter, unable to bring food to the table? Without the money we would be kicked out of the hostel. We would be on the streets, hungry, with nothing… I couldn't do it. I couldn't even face the possibility. When I asked my boss for my full paycheck and he refused to pay me at all, I completely lost control of my powers. I didn't even realize what was going on until suddenly everything metallic in a half mile radius began screeching, tearing itself from its place… I tore the whole place apart while barely noticing it." I let out a breath. "When I realized what I'd done, fear gripped me. I was sure there must have been witnesses. What would I do if they turned against my family? I ran back to the main town, to the hostel, as fast as I could and yet by the time I made it there, it was already too late. Magda was outside the hostel, a bag of groceries fallen and forgotten by her feet, she was screaming…" my breath caught in my throat but I pushed. "The hostel… it was burning… with Anya inside…" I shake my head wildly, I can still hear her screams inside my mind… "She was terrified. I wanted to go in, I wanted to help her. Either save my little girl, or die with her, I did not care which. They wouldn't let me. Men arrived, they were KGB… they'd heard what I'd done in the mine, and they knew enough of Schmidt and his experiments to understand what it meant. I tried to fight them, tried to get inside the hostel… and then… suddenly it was too late." Tears are falling down my cheeks, but I pay them no heed. "Someone hit me with the back of a rifle on the back of my head… it was so painfully reminiscent of what they'd done when I fought to stay with my parents, the day we were taken to Auschwitz… I was dizzy for a few seconds, before being able to focus fully again. Yet it was still a few seconds too much. I lost my daughter, in those few seconds of indecision… I lost her forever."

"Oh Erik…" His hands are on my face, brushing away my tears.

"In that moment, I felt clearly how something inside me snapped." I know I have to finish, it's now or never. "I don't know what I did exactly. I just know I killed every KGB Agent, and everyone else that was involved in stopping me from getting to my little girl. Then, when the rest of the people began turning against me, and against Magda, I destroyed the rest of the town, until nothing was left but ruins, and Magda… She, I don't know… I don't know if it was Anya, or me, the town turning against her, or a combination of two or more of those. She screeched… at me. She left me that day, wouldn't stay, not even to bury our child…" I force myself to breathe, something I have trouble doing. "So I buried Anya… for a year I wandered around, lost, without a purpose. And then, almost by accident, I ended in a town where I saw the old mine-owner. And not only that. He was meeting with someone I remembered from Auschwitz, one of the Nazis. I went after them, killed them in cold blood. At some point Schmidt was mentioned. And in that moment, the two tragedies became one, and I gained new purpose: to kill everyone who had ever hurt or might hurt, me, or those like me. Jew and Mutant… hunt them down and kill them." I shake my head. "At some point it went from that to actually hunting down Schmidt. I had already dealt with the miner, and the KGB Agents responsible for the tragedy in Ukraine, but I still saw Schmidt as the main responsible one for everything. I needed to make him pay. And so, I began hunting him down, above any and all else… I followed his trace all around the world, eventually finding a banker in Switzerland who had made business with him; from there, a bar financed with blood money in Argentina; and then… a yacht off the coast of Miami…"

For the longest time Charles doesn't say a thing. Instead he just sits there, his arms around me, he's holding me, and in that moment I feel the most vulnerable I've ever been, and yet, somehow, there's nothing wrong with that. I can show my fragility, because it is Charles, he's my strength, he will never take advantage of my weaknesses, just like I could never even think about taking advantage of his. It just goes against any and all instinct in us…

**xXx**

We spend that night together in my old bed. We don't do anything except cuddle, but it's alright, because that's exactly what I need, what we need at that moment.

The next morning we arrive to breakfast in time to find Raven and Angel working together on it. With Jenny giving instructions (she's been teaching them how to cook breakfast for a few days). They all turn to look at us, as does Moira (who's drinking her coffee at the moment). None say a word, but it's obvious they can sense the subtext on our interaction, just like they could sense the tension before. They do not say a word about it, instead just greet us and go back to their things… except for Moira, who hides a particularly smug smile behind her coffee mug.

*She truly is something else, isn't she?* Charles comments, as we join the others for breakfast.

*I tell you, she's not human, she cannot be.* Of course I know he's talking about Moira, must have sensed what she said yesterday. *She's too abnormal.*

*And what about Jenny?* Charles asks, a glint of interest in his eyes.

I do not respond. Really, what does he want me to say? That's he's right and humans are good? Not likely, as much as I may accept and respect both Moira and Jenny… that doesn't mean I don't still believe humanity as a whole will turn on us one day. I believe in them, and maybe a few others I've met… but I still don't believe in humanity as a whole.

**xXx**

The candle is finally fully consumed by the time the sun sets once again. Charles and I spend the hours between the end of that day's work with Jenny and Moira and the moment when the candle-flame is finally fully gone, talking quietly. He wants to know everything about Anya, the good memories I have about her, and about Magda. Things might have ended in horror and tragedy with both of them, but that doesn't mean there weren't some good times. After all, I was married to Magda for about seven years, and Anya was almost five when she died. That's enough time for a lot of memories, many of them quite wonderful indeed. It makes the loss of them somewhat easier to bear, to be able to remember (with Charles's help at times) the good things. It heals a part of me I thought would never be healed… just like that memory of Mama and I lighting the Menorah while in hiding, before all the horror of the camps.

Eventually the candle is done. Raven delivers a tray with coffee, tea and a plate with two slices of apple pie (prepared by Matilda and Jenny) and Charles and I dine together in my old room.

At some point sharing pieces of pie becomes foreplay, and relatively soon clothes are being shed. We move at a leisurely pace, enjoying every motion, every kiss, every caress, thoroughly. And then… I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, but when Charles moves to pour the lubricant on my fingers I instead pour it on his. My mind showing him what I want.

*Are you sure, Erik?* He asks in a quiet, hesitant tone. *You know you don't have to do this, right? I have no problem with our usual positions.*

*I know.* I reply calmly, suddenly confident in what I want, and why. *I want this Charles. There is not much I can offer you, except myself. And that's exactly what I want.* I whisper huskily into his ear, biting his lobe. *I want to feel you inside me…*

That seems to be enough to convince him, and soon I feel him; slow and hesitant at first; but soon gaining confidence. And yet, he's still slow, careful, each move measured, intended for pleasure, not pain. I have previous experience on this side of a male/male relationship, and Charles knows that; only they're not good experiences, full of pain, and horror and shame. With Charles… there's no comparison. It's quite obvious that he's seeking my pleasure even more so than his own; and it somehow ends up with both of us panting and moaning with abandon.

I remember my own thoughts concerning slow lovemaking with Charles: him falling apart in my arms, me unraveling in his… having Charles inside me causes an identical, yet opposite reaction. And coupled with the feedback caused by our bond almost pulsing with our own pleasure; it's like taking and giving all we have, all we are… everything at the same time.

Love is a surrender… I know that now. It's surrendering all you have, all you are, have been, will ever be, to one you trust above everyone else, yourself included. Yet, even though it's a surrender, it's not a defeat; because when you do it right, the other person surrenders themselves to you as well. And you're winning more than you're losing. So in the end, love is a surrender, and a victory, and perfection…

The next words I say are so unexpected, yet somehow so natural, I'm not conscious of them until I've said them:

"Marry me Charles…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you read that correctly. Though what becomes of that statement you won't see until two weeks from now. Hope you all liked this. While the marriage thing caught even me by surprise, the rest of the ending of this chapter is one of the things I had been planning almost from the very beginning, along with things like Charles's breakdown and... things you have yet to see. 
> 
> This is the last chapter written in 1st person. The next one (last one for this fic) is in third person, due to a lot of things that will be happening, it made things easier. It will also include my last cameo (for the time being at least). That one won't have as much importance as Matilda, but still. 
> 
> Talking about Matilda, and Jenny. To those who might be wondering. Yes, they will continue to appear in the sequels of this fic. Mostly Matilda. She will be important, very much so, though in a different way than Charles, Erik and the future X-Men. 
> 
> This fic hasn't had as much response as I wish. I would love it if everyone reading would review, either here or at least in the last chapter, two weeks from now. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you would like to see in the sequels. Like I've said before, there will be sequels, though it will be a while before they come, as my muse isn't being very complying for the time being. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this work, and the small part that's yet to come. Thank you to all of those who read, and especially those who reviewed and/or added this to their lists of favorites and alerts. Thank you very much. 
> 
> See ya!


	10. Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Cerebro is ready, the Institute up and running, a family coming together... and two to be joined in ways never expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cameo (though less recognizable and important than Matilda). A few surprises. Hope you'll like this. 
> 
> Oh... and this is in 3rd person POV

**Chapter 10. Vows**

It's almost the end of the summer, when Hank announces that Cerebro 2.0 is finished. It's a good thing, because Charles, Erik and the others have been done with all the names in the list compiled from Charles's use of the first Cerebro last year and they cannot just stop there.

A few days before the first day of classes Hank makes the announcement, and of course Charles wants to make use of it right away.

*So eager to be a lab rat… again, Charles?* Erik asks mentally with a smirk.

*I'm eager to find more of us, my love…* Charles replies easily.

It had been so simple, to go from calling each other 'my friend' to 'my love'. The most natural thing in the world, some would say. Doesn't mean it made Erik's unexpected words that night at the beginning of the summer any easier.

" _Marry me, Charles…"_

Of course Erik knows how impossible, how downright illegal their relationship is; they could be arrested if they so much as kissed, maybe even held hands, in public; there's no way they could ever marry… still, the idea, the significance of it all remains; and both Charles and Erik cannot help but wish there was a way they could do it, somehow.

In the end one thing distracts both Charles and Erik from any thought about marriage, illegal relationships and such: the first session in Cerebro 2.0. Erik doesn't like the idea much, he remembers quite clearly Charles's constant headaches back with the first Cerebro.

"It's different this time." Hank assures him. "That one was a prototype, created before I ever met a telepath, with materials the CIA gave me. This one is a perfected version, with better materials, and fashioned mostly for Charles." He ponders for a bit before adding. "Emma could use it too, of course, but not with the same level of success. Since Charles is the more powerful telepath and the one more likely to use it, I made sure everything was perfect for him specifically."

Erik nods, he's still not fully sure, but at least he knows things will be better than the last time. And yet, that doesn't stop him from insisting to be present on the first time Cerebro is used.

Unlike the first version of it, Hank's machines and monitors are in a separate room, a control room. Cerebro itself is a circular room in the underground levels of the mansion, with a platform that leads to the middle. It's bigger than the first one, and Erik can sense the harmony in the metal panels better than before. Also, the cables and various wires connected to the helmet are all inside a protective plastic cover, making the whole thing look more stylized and cared for.

"Remember not to move." Charles tells him as he settles the helmet over his own head.

"I remember." Erik assures him. "Just like I remember I'm your anchor."

Yes he was. The whole thing makes Charles smile. And then, after a warning from Hank through the intercom, Cerebro is turned on. Erik doesn't actually need the bond to know that Charles's breathless gasp isn't a sign of pain or some problem; no, it's a sign of the wonder and amazement that fills Charles at the things he's able to sense through Cerebro.

*Want to sense what I sense?* Charles offers. *See what I see?*

Erik doesn't need to give an answer, it's quite obvious in the pulse of excitement that reaches Charles a second later. It's a simple (for them, though quite complicated for anyone not a telepath or in a telepathic bond) thing for Charles to pull Erik through the bond and allow him to see and feel things through Cerebro, like he's doing. What Erik finds there fill him with both amazement and humility. There's just so much… he cannot even find the right words for it: it's light and shadow, powers and thoughts, all the colors of the rainbow at the same time.

*See?* Charles asks, his mental voice full of delight. *This is us. All of us, together.*

*All the mutants in the world…* Erik gasps.

*Some aren't even fully conscious that they're special at all just yet.* Charles points out. *It's all so amazing, isn't it?*

*Can we focus more?* Erik asks, he wants to know all he can, given the chance.

*A bit.* Charles nods, guiding him to a girl with pale blue eyes and dark brown hair in ringlets, except for a golden lock. "This here is Gwen Raiden, she's eight years old and lives in Gills Rock, Wisconsin. Her ability manifested recently, not even three months ago, and already a few people have been hurt; her parents are trying to keep her hidden before someone hurts her, but its proving hard. We should probably get her next.*

*What's her ability?* Erik inquires. *Can you tell?*

*She generates and manipulates electricity.* The telepath informs him.

*Can she hear you? Us?* Erik really wants to help her, give her hope.

*Yes, but we have to be very careful. If we're too forceful we could hurt her, or even kill her.*

Suddenly Erik isn't sure it's a good idea anymore.

*It'll be okay.* Charles assures him, touching the girl's mind carefully. *Gwen? Sweetheart?*

*Who is it?* Gwen asks out-loud and in her mind, afraid.

*It's okay sweety.* Charles assures her. *My name is Charles Xavier, I'm in your head.*

*Am I crazy? A freak?* Gwen asks, dejectedly.

Erik wants to scream his denial, but is too afraid to hurt the girl. Still, she gets the idea.

*You're special Gwen.* Charles assures her, softly. *What you can do, it's a gift… it makes you special, not a freak.*

*How would you know that?* Gwen is doubtful. *You're just in my head!*

*Oh no, I'm communicating with you through your mind, little one, but I'm very real, I assure you.* Charles says with a quiet chuckle. *I am a telepath. It means I can read minds, and communicate that way. You have a gift with electricity, like I have one with minds; like others have other gifts: like being able to fly, or move things with their minds, or many other things.*

*Really?* Ever so slowly, her doubt changes to hope.

*Really.* Charles assures her softly. *Gwen… you're not alone…*

A shiver runs through Erik, both his mind and body, as he remembers a night off the coast of Florida, nearly drowning, and the same three words changing his whole life…

Charles extends his awareness a bit more, locating a few mutants, though he only focuses on them enough for their coordinates to be printed. Erik is still connected to his mind, but having a more passive role, just watching everything silently; until they're about to leave Cerebro completely, and then something calls their attention.

*What is that?* Erik is the first to notice something's going on.

*What?* Charles has no idea what's happening.

*I'm not the telepath here, but I noticed something strange… I would say it was a mutant, one we've met before… except for the fact that I sensed it a few times. So unless it's someone that can be in at least half a dozen places at the same time, or all mutants feel the same now…*

*Something's going on.* Charles finishes for him.

It's then that the telepath actually focuses. Using Erik's memory of what he's felt to track it down. When he manages to mostly understand what's going on he's left in absolute shock.

*Charles?* Erik asks, doubtful at his lover's sudden silence. *Liebling…?*

*I'm alright, love.* Charles assures him right away, taking a ragged mental breath. *It's just… you're never going to believe this…*

Erik pushes the helmet off Charles's head when they get out of Cerebro. They're both breathless and the telepath is crying, which sends the already quite anxious Hank into an all-out funk.

"What the hell happened?!" He practically snaps.

"Questions later." Erik waves him away. "We need to get to the front-yard… now!"

*Alex! Sean! Raven! Angel! Moira!* Charles goes calling as he and Erik move to the elevator. *We need you on the front-yard, quickly… and one of you bring a blanket.*

*Shouldn't you be telling them why exactly we need them at the front-yard?* Erik inquires.

*I would rather let it be a surprise.* Erik can see the mischief in his lover's smirk and cannot help but answer it with out of his own.

*I think I will be staying where I am, sugar.* Emma informs Charles, having gleaned what's going on. *I do not think the presence of some of us would be very productive right now.*

Charles recognizes the accuracy of that statement, yet doesn't change his previous call. The rest meet them in the foyer. Raven carrying a blanket she got from the linen closet before hurrying down the stairs. Alex is the last to arrive, after convincing Jenny and Roger (a paramedic in his thirties who left his old job after he was seen using his ability to calm people enough to put them to sleep when doing so to a hysterical patient, he's the doctor in the Institute and helping Raven become a nurse) that yes, things are alright, they would know if they weren't, and the children are perfectly safe, if that changes Charles will inform them himself… he is there.

"Charles, what is going on?" Raven asks in a demanding tone.

"You'll see…" Charles is still smirking.

"You've been spending way too much time with Erik, Prof…" Sean comments, stunned at Charles's expression, then he does a double-take at his own words and goes as red as his hair.

Moira, Erik and Raven cannot help but laugh out-loud as well.

The moment breaks when suddenly they can all see what at first seems like black dust, gathering on the grass a few feet away. At first none of them have the slightest idea of what's going on; until the dust seems to begin taking shape, human-like shape. Suddenly almost everyone's gasping, Angel is on her knees crying and Alex looks like he's about to have a mental meltdown.

"Darwin?!"

It's impossible to know who, and exactly how many of them scream the name; in that moment it doesn't really matter, only the fact that the one person they were sure was completely lost to them, is now back…

Raven is the first to focus again. She rushes to where Darwin has collapsed on the grass (when he appeared, in a strange gruesome sequence that looked the inverse from when Shaw attacked him), immediately covering him with the blanket and helping him sit up, slowly.

"Easy Darwin." Hank helps him too.

"Hank?" Darwin inquires, confused. "Why are you blue? And furry?" He's still waiting for an answer when he sees Angel, sobbing behind them. "Angel?"

"What's the last thing you remember Darwin?" Moira asks in a soft voice.

"I remember… the attack on the base… Shaw… Angel was leaving…" Darwin ignores Angel's strangled sob as he tries to focus. "I remember my mutation fighting against Shaw's energy, I kept trying to adapt to his attack… I was trying so hard and then… nothing. I feel like I was floating in nothingness… and then the Professor found me."

"The best way I know to put it is that Darwin somehow became energy." Charles tries to explain. "Maybe it was his own power. When he couldn't adapt into a form that Shaw couldn't destroy, he instead became a part of the same attack. I was about to finish the session with Cerebro when I found him and… well, here we are."

It's hard for Charles to explain, even after having done it himself; just like it's hard for Erik to understand, even having been there himself. Neither of them could truly explain what it had been like to find pieces of Darwin, of his consciousness, of himself, floating in the air, in different spots; 'herding' them (for lack of a better term) together, until Darwin had full consciousness of self again; and then guiding his still immaterial form to Westchester, where Darwin them somehow managed to force himself to gain human form again. They cannot explain it, though they both know it happened, and how much of a miracle it all is.

"Alex?" Darwin asks right then. "Man, are you alright?"

It is then that the others notice that he is still standing back, just staring at Darwin in shock.

It takes some effort from Raven and Hank to make sure Darwin doesn't end up on his face when he tries to get up too fast for his own good. Still, they help without saying a word.

"Alex…?" Darwin begins once again, extending his hand to the blonde.

"You're alive…" Alex finally gasps, in a tone that makes it seem like he's been holding his breath since he first saw Darwin… and maybe he has. "You're alive… I didn't kill you…"

"Oh Alex…" Darwin doesn't know what else to say.

Charles just closes his eyes. He knew Alex was in pain, the deep hatred he'd developed for himself after what had happened to Darwin… and regardless of how many times Charles tried to talk to Alex about it, to help him with it… nothing worked. It was part of what had made it so hard to train the blonde during that week prior to Cuba… Alex was absolutely terrified of killing someone else, no matter how many times Charles told him it would never happen. In the end it was Erik asking him what he thought it would feel like if someone died because he didn't use his ability to its full potential, what got Alex training in earnest.

"You're alive…" Alex says a third time, as if reassuring himself of that very fact.

The next thing that happens, no one expects; when the blonde suddenly cups Darwin's face in his hands, pulling him, crushing their mouths together.

The kiss lasts forever and no time at all. After the initial contact, right as Alex is about to pull away, full of embarrassment, Darwin seems to finally react, taking hold of the younger and slightly smaller man and pulling him flush against his body, deepening the kiss.

Eventually they have to break for air. But even when they do, for the longest time they don't talk, just staring at each other with such intensity most of those present cannot help but think they're intruding in an awfully intimate moment… that is, at least, until Raven lets out a particularly loud cat-call, before dissolving into laughter.

Instantly Alex is bright red, burying his face in Darwin's chest (which was half-uncovered when he moved to kiss Alex, allowing the blanket to slip down some); Darwin for his part cannot help his tension even as he places an arm around the younger mutant's shoulders.

"Darwin?" The blonde can sense his tension and wonders at it. "Anything wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking…" Darwin begins, shaking his head.

"Stop, stop, Darwin stop." Alex interrupts him. "Is this about the kiss?"

"It's illegal!" Darwin hisses. "While I might have wanted nothing more than to kiss you for a long time… I still shouldn't have done it. The last thing I want is for you to go to prison and…"

"Darwin, man, calm down." The blonde says calmly. "Everything's alright. None of them are going to accuse us with the police on charges of indecency, acts against the moral, or whatever other stupid made-up charges people out there are using…"

"No?" It's obvious Darwin isn't expecting that.

"They would never do that." Alex assures him, turning slightly to look to the side.

Darwin follows his line of sight; finding Erik standing there, his arm around Charles's waist. With the excitement mostly out of the way Charles is beginning to feel a great deal of mental exhaustion, and Erik is the only thing keeping him up at the moment.

"I knew it!" Darwin blurts out unexpectedly.

"What…?" Quite a few are surprised at that.

"All that pent-up sexual tension in the taxi…" Darwin chuckles lowly.

This time Charles is the one blushing in embarrassment, while Erik smirks self-satisfied. He remembers that part of the road-trip quite clearly. Even if he and Charles hadn't done anything about that tension until after Cuba, it was still a good time.

"I knew Moira and I couldn't have been the only ones to see it!" Raven crows enthusiastically.

"Raven?" Darwin looks her up and down. "You are now blue all the time?"

When first being called out Raven had instinctively returned to her blonde disguise; having no idea what they were doing out there, who was coming. Once sure it was just Darwin, one of them, she relaxed and returned to her natural form (though clothed).

"Mutant and Proud." Raven states for all answer.

"Like you've probably noticed already, quite a bit has happened since you've been… away." Moira points out, not knowing what other word to use.

"I can see that." Darwin states. "While I'm sure it must be an amazing story, I have to say I'm in no hurry." He tightens his hold on Alex briefly, placing a gentle kiss of his temple. "I'm perfectly happy where and how I am right now…"

"It's quite alright." Moira assures him. "It's not like any of us is going anywhere. All you need to know probably for the time being is: we won, and this is now a school."

"A school? Really?" Darwin smiles brightly. "I'm sure that must be a hell of a story."

It is, certainly; even those who were there for it can hardly believe it, they can only begin to imagine the challenge Darwin will face, dealing with it all. At least he has Alex. Having someone beside you, a partner, always makes things better, as more than one of them can attest to.

**xXx**

Darwin deals with the changes that have taken place in the last year well enough. Some might even say it's because of his mutation, his gift for adaptability, except for the fact that, really, he's not the only one who's had to adapt to radical changes lately.

At first Alex and Darwin are a bit shy when showing affection, but once they're convinced no one in the house will turn against them because of their personal preferences, they become a lot more relaxed. Darwin takes to keeping a hand on the small of Alex's back or the back of his neck; it's also quite common for Alex to lay a hand on Darwin's arms for whatever the reason. They actually seem more demonstrative than Charles and Erik most of the time (of course, no one knows about Charles's and Erik's bond, or all the things they share like that).

In October, less than a month before the first anniversary of the battle against Shaw (an event that humans as a whole, blissfully ignorant of mutants and what really happened has taken to calling the 'Cuban Missile Crisis'); Erik's words from the beginning of the summer come back:  _Marry me Charles_. What no one ever expected was just who would have a response to that:

"I can marry you." Moira says, quietly. "It wouldn't be legal, obviously; but we all know such a union is pretty much against the law right now. That might change sometime in the future; but if you want to celebrate your union, your commitment right now, I can help with that." She takes a deep breath, seeing the confusion in everyone's faces. "I come from a pagan family, well, actually it was my mother's family, but still. I didn't have much contact with them when I was a child after my mom died because my father didn't want them to 'corrupt' me. I was actually born Moira Kinross. That all changed when I was sixteen years old. I had already finished high-school and my father was against me going to university. At first it didn't seem like he would be able to stop it; until he found the son of an old associate of his who wanted to marry me. For him it was a simple matter of saying yes, without even asking me if that was what I wanted… I didn't even know the man!" She shakes her head vehemently. "Then, right when I thought I was condemned to live the rest of my life in hell… Connor arrived. Connor MacTaggert… He offered me an out, an escape from that marriage and that life, and I accepted; didn't even consider asking him where we were going… or even who he was. As it turned out, he was my cousin, son of my mother's brother. He took me to Grandma MacTaggert. I spent a few months there, learning as much as I could about my family, and who my mother: Ailsa MacTaggert Kinross, had been. I was found too soon by my father and husband-to-be. It was clear I had to leave Scotland to get away from them, even Europe didn't seem enough; so I changed my name to Moira MacTaggert and got to America in secret. Once here Connor arranged for me to meet some of his contacts, who helped me get all the necessary papers for my new life. I went to college, studying sciences; I'm not sure when exactly I decided I wanted to be CIA; regardless of how hard it might be with me being a woman. I can certainly tell you I didn't regret it, not for anything… until Cuba."

For almost a few minute there was absolute silence, and then…

"So, you're pagan." Raven decided to focus on what had been the original topic of the conversation. "And somehow, because of that, you can marry Charles and Erik."

"Grandma trained me to be a priestess." Moira explains. "Granted, I was never recognized as one by the rest of the tribe. But the point remains that I'm offering this as a way for you to recognize each other as your partner. I have no way of making things legal anyway."

"I like it." Charles announces. "Legal or not. I like the idea of a ceremony during which I can officially state I'm Erik's… and he's mine."

"We'll do it." Erik agrees.

There's no hesitation. It doesn't matter if Moira has never lead a handfasting ceremony in her life, if there's nothing legal and binding about it… for them it will be binding (not that they aren't bound already in certain ways). It's a way to make their union official, and to celebrate it with their extended family in the Institute.

No one says a word against it. It's truly a marvel how everyone in Westchester, mutant and human alike (aside from Jenny there is the cook and the housekeeper: a middle-aged couple known by most simply as Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and the few human relatives of some mutants who still are involved in their family members' lives) has developed such a level of acceptance, respect and tolerance; and not only for mutants but also for things like homosexuality, differences in race, religion, etc. If only the rest of the world could follow their example…

They choose the very day of the anniversary for the 'wedding', according to both 'grooms' it is fitting somehow. It's the day their lives changed, not just because of Shaw's defeat, but also because the choices many of them made, as a family, and Charles and Erik personally, choosing to trust each other on that beach, and then when becoming a couple.

Moira takes very seriously acting as Priestess for Charles's and Erik's handfasting ceremony, at different points approaching some of the others with specific things with which they can help.

Finally the day of, the children all decorate a space on the huge grounds with chairs and an altar, making sure it has everything Moira told them she would need. There are quite a number of guests, and not just the inhabitants of the Institute, but even some of the human relatives, and other mutants who are in contact yet have chosen not to stay in Westchester. They all choose to ignore the laws and customs where gay couples are concerned and participate of the ceremony taking place that day.

Moira is wearing a dark wine-red floor-length velvet dress with open bell-like sleeves and a straight cut on top that leaves her shoulders and collarbone bare. Her hair is mostly loose, except for the locks that Raven helped entwine with the circlet made of leaves and flowers. On the altar there are arranged: a goblet of water, a fistful of salt, a candle and some incense; representing the blessing of the four elements. With her bare feet barely seen beneath the hem of her dress and the materials laid out on the altar behind her, she's everything any of those present could have ever expected from a pagan priestess.

Eventually Charles and Erik make their appearance, dressed in white linen shirts and slacks (more their own choice than anything Moira might have said) and equally barefoot. Each are escorted by a number of the 'children' acting as their respective families. Raven, Hank and Sean with Charles; Alex, Darwin and Angel with Erik; Emma, Janos and Azazel, the others closest to the group choose to stay mostly out of the ceremony, though they still attend and respect its significance to those involved.

Once everyone is present, with quiet, rhythmic motions Moira proceeds to call a blessing in ancient Celtic. Once that's done she goes to stand before Charles and Erik, beginning the actual handfasting ceremony, this time in English.

"We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Charles and Erik." Moira declares, her voice gaining an odd cadence no one had noticed before in her. "There are many things to say about marriage. Much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls has come our way through all paths of belief, and from many cultures. With each union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these two, who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of love and its strengths and the anticipation of the wisdom that comes with time. The law of life is love unto all beings. Without love, life is nothing, without love, death has no redemption. Love is anterior to Life, posterior to Death, initial of Creation and the exponent of Earth. If we learn no more in life, let it be this." She smiles, her voice growing even smoother as she gains confidence. "Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. As with any aspect of life, it has its cycles, its ups and its downs, its trials and its triumphs. With full understanding of this, Charles and Erik have come here today to be joined as one in marriage. As is only right, I must now ask if each of them comes of their own free will and if each has the blessing of those they see as family." She's taking liberties with the ceremony but who cares? "Charles, is it true that you come of your own free will and accord?"

"Yes, it is true." Charles answers calmly, smiling.

"With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?" Moira asks next.

"He comes with me, his sister," Raven states, stepping forward. "And is accompanied by the blessings of all of those who've chosen to call him family."

"Erik," Moira asks next. "Is it true that you come of your own free will and accord?"

"Yes, it is true." Erik replies, his eyes never straying from Charles's.

"With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?" Moira asks next.

"He comes with us, his friends and family by choice." It is a surprise to some when Alex chooses to act as spoke-person on that side, though no less happiness and love.

A motion from Moira's hands is enough to prompt Raven and Alex to step forward, each carrying a ring: they were both created by Erik, his greatest pieces of art yet: perfect rings in a design of interlaced Celtic knots made of adamantium (a variation of the vibranium Howard sent Charles at some point to 'help him with his project', even if Stark doesn't actually know what that project is supposed to be). Moira takes the rings, holding them between her clasped hands, straight before her, in between Charles and Erik.

"Please join hands with your betrothed now and listen to that which I am about to say." Moira instructs them. "Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember: Like a stone should your love be firm like a star should your love be constant. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for God is with you always."

"Erik," Moira's tone goes more serious as she offers Erik one of the rings. "I have not the right to bind thee to Charles, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in his hand."

"It is my wish." Erik agrees and does as bided.

"Charles," she hands him the remaining ring. "I have not the right to bind thee to Erik, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in his hand."

"It is my wish." Charles is smiling brighter than ever before as he does.

"Now, state your vows." Moira tells them.

She'd shared with them the traditional vows for the usual handfasting ceremony; telling them they could leave them as they were and just memorize them, or change them as they saw fit. In the end the two had chosen to leave them as they were, stating that they were already amazingly fitting to them and their situation (both as mutants and a gay couple). Moira had to agree.

"I, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee Charles Francis Xavier to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself."

"I, Charles Francis Xavier, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood, and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr to my hand, my heart, and my spirit to be my chosen one. To desire and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself."

Through it all Charles and Erik have remained with their left hands clasped, only separating them to place their rings where they belong.

"Here before witnesses, Charles and Erik have sworn vows to each other." Moira states even as she reaches behind her to the piece of cord on the altar. "With this cord, I bind them to the vows that they each have made." She wraps the cord loosely around their arms. "However this binding is not tied, so that neither is restricted by the other, and the binding is only enforced by both their wills and their love…"

They don't need Moira's mental prompt to recite their part, Charles and Erik at the same time:

"Heart to thee, Soul to thee, Body to thee, Forever and always, So mote it be."

They are together now, legal or illegal, in the eyes of those that truly matter to them both.

"So mote it be." Moira states solemnly.

They are together now, and nothing and no one shall come between them.

"So mote it be." Raven, Alex and the other members of their bizarre family call cheerfully.

They are together, and shall remain so till the end of time.

"So mote it be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End is here! We all knew it was coming. I really hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. The ceremony... well, I have always loved the handfasting ceremony, those who have read other fics of mine know I tend to use it as basis for all my magic or supernatural weddings. 
> 
> Gwen, for those who don't know and might be wondering, comes from the series "Angel" (the spin-off of Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Her story is basically the same, up to when she's eight. Then everything will change. She might make an appearance in one or more of the sequels, but won't be too important (one more or the children, or X-Men, depending on the year of the sequel), a back-character mostly. 
> 
> Darwin's return... well, that wasn't exactly planned when I began this fic; but after reading so many stories when they brought him back... I debated between pairing him with Angel or with Alex, but there's just something about those two together that I like (don't ask me what, not even I know). I also truly believe Darwin had too amazing a power to have fallen just like that... 
> 
> Finally, on Moira's backstory, it's vaguely based on her backstory in the comics (very vaguely) though I gave it my own spin. I only made her pagan so I could include the 'wedding', and really, it fit, with her already being from that area... 
> 
> Please, please leave review. Tell me what you've liked it this fic, what you haven't, what you would like to see in the upcoming sequels... also, I warn you, it will take a while for the sequels to come, as I haven't gotten any further than the first chapter and my muse just refuses to cooperate (it's also why I want as many reviews as possible, to get me in an X-Men mood and inspire me once again). Please!
> 
> In any case, I'll see you all around... I hope. 
> 
> See ya!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the full-sized version of the series Poster on my DA account, I go by Princess-Lalaith there. 
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed Amity, and the Hope and Salvation series thus far. It will be a while before the next part comes (until my muse cooperates). 
> 
> See ya around people!


End file.
